The Pride and Joy of the Potter Family
by Blue-Fire01
Summary: He has a family heirloom from his mother's side; a magical creature, an Homunculus. With eyes in the shadows, Pride will upset the plans of many in this war. (Pride is able to change his size.) (Harry/Pride) (Shrunk/Normal) 18 year-old stuff. Micro Stuff, Underwear, Lemons, Boy/Boy, All wrapped up in a nice little plot that leaves Harry Potter the last one standing.
1. Chapter 1

Abuse is a horrendous crime to commit.

Run-of-the-mill families never think to take a second, and really look. They deny claims of neighbors and coworkers who witness a child hurting because they can. Because some people don't think of punishment as abuse.

That is the case of the Dursley family.

Petunia Dursley nee Evans and her husband, Vernon Dursley, was a run-of-the-mill couple with one boy. However, Dudley Dursley had a cousin who stayed with them, a boy, whose name was Harry Potter.

Nothing was ever going well with Harry in this family. At a young age Dudley started to grow taller and around the waist, much like his father, and began to act out like a normal child. Only his parents encouraged the behavior if it got directed to Harry.

So Harry, a thin child with black hair cut short and green eyes first started to learn what he was to his family.

A punching bag.

If he was lucky Dudley might leave him alone for a day. But the ten-year-old doubted his chance of ever having a better life when for the last five years of his life were pathetically sad. No friends, no loving family, and the verbal abuse of his aunt and uncle made him cry in his cupboard sized bedroom under the stairs.

He tried to academically succeed to be accepted by his peers in school, which left him being seen as a nerd. In fact, Dudley loved to point that out. Making Harry feel even worse when even getting A's in his classes backfired. It just earned him a talking to from his uncle about cheating – not that he did – but the man never listens to reason.

So, again, Harry now sits in his room. The door to the hall shut with the dead bolt latched on the outside. Why can't they see he tries? Does his 'freakishness' make him a monster? Harry, when stressed or hurt somehow had a habit of making his shadow darker. Almost pitch black like a panted silhouette. It tended to scare his aunt and uncle if they saw it.

Harry told himself that this was a neat power. Useless… yes. But it meant he was special. Harry liked being special. How his relatives knew about it Harry could only guess. If asked they lock him in his room.

Well, thought Harry, as he stared at the single light bulb in his room, he never really tried to understand it. If only Aunt Petunia would be kind enough to give him a clue. She seemed to be in the know. Tight lip if his power acted up; she'd then whisper later with Vernon about it.

Harry closed his eyes. Ready for sleep to swift him off to brighter thoughts. He'd just need to be careful with this shadow business of his. Tomorrow was another day of school, and nothing, freaky powers or not, was going to help him solve this crappy life. Dudley would still bully him and Aunt Petunia won't say a word. Except Harry really wanted to know why, there had to be a reason…

xXx

Every day this summer had been the same: the tension again… and again, growing more insistent all the time, the question of _why_ nothing had happened yet…

Harry, soon to be coming up into his fifth year of Hogwarts, walked the street of his home deep in thought.

Since learning of magic, a man by the name of Voldemort has tried to kill him almost every year. Only during his forth year of attending the magical school did the spirt succeed in capturing him; forcing him into a resurrection ritual. Harry gritted his teeth, knowing Voldemort, aka Tom Riddle, planned it all out. Now freed, Harry figured they'd be disappearances, destruction, and death. The Dark Lord's new body made him feel sick thinking about it.

Right now the Ministry denied his claims. They were too afraid of the dark lord coming back to see he already had.

Owls carrying him newspapers became a waste after the front paper had the big bold letters of "Liar" above a picture of him. So news on the magical side turned up no shit hitting the fan. And any news Harry thought he might get from Ron and Hermione ended up useless.

 _"There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you. . . ."_

But his friends seemed to never bother with a date. How far was soon? Did they reply with a meeting place? No, just lame birthday cards. He'd figured Hermione was spending her summer days with Ron now because his best mate's family owl delivered both birthday cards. He nearly stomped his feet as he walked. They got to have all the fun these days.

Soon a darkened park came into view as he turned on Magnolia Crescent. The park was empty as the surrounding street. He sat himself on a swing set, in fact it was the only one his stupid cousin had not yet managed to break. Speaking of… Harry ran a finger down his scar. Often his old scar on his forehead throbbed uncomfortably, but lately he felt it was old news. As the years went by it became a signal that Voldemort was getting stronger, but now it constantly makes him curl up in pain at night. If Sirius or Dumbledore knew about it they'd remind him the pain was only to be expected with Riddle's return.

But lately it had been burning. Twice this month he'd needed aspirin to break a fever. He bet Dumbledore knew, just not to what extent. Harry considered owling the headmaster – the man knowing more magic than Sirius – for a potion, but Dumbledore was pissing him off.

He felt like an unwanted dog. Keeping him on a leash here. While they plan and decided what to do next. His friends won't even give him a bone, just time in the dog house.

Laughter broke his thoughts. Harry rose his eyes off his feet and looked over to the other side of the park. Illuminated by the street lights were his cousin Dudley, followed by his gain of friends.

Neighborhood children around the area were terrified of his cousin – even more than they were of "that Potter boy," who, as Uncle Vernon made sure, was a lawbreaking good for nothing criminal.

Harry, seeing Dudley's gain brake up and leave, decided to stroll up to him. At night there were no mutters of "delinquent" if he passed people's homes. During the day he'd get caught by a neighbor and reported to his family, where Uncle Vernon will then blow a gasket, so Harry preferred the night. It made him happy to not be judged.

"So," Harry began, making Dudley turn around, "who've you been beating up tonight?" Harry asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago –"

"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley.

"Oh yeah?"

"He cheeked me."

"Yeah? Did he say you're a pig on his hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true…"

Harry smirked at Dudley; he felt so much better seeing his cousin fidget. For good measure Harry put his hand in his pants pocket. Showing his cousin he had brought his wand with him.

"You're not allowed," Dudley said quickly. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to."

"How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"

"They haven't," said Dudley, though he squeaked at the end. Harry laughed, he needed this, fucking with his cousin was sweet revenge.

"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Dudley snarled, but had a good point.

"Whereas you, mister boxing champ, need four guys to beat up a ten-year-old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?"

"He was sixteen for your information," snarled Dudley, "and twice as heavy as you, twig. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out -"

"Oh? Does the ickle boxing champ need to run to his Daddy?"

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.

"It _is_ night, nimrod."

"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley bellowed.

He had stopped walking. Harry stopped too, staring at his cousin's triumphant look.

"What d'you mean, I'm not brave in bed?" said Harry, completely confused. "What – am I supposed to be frightened of pillows or something? I've faced a Boggart, they're like the boogey man. So don't say _I'm scared_!"

"I heard you last night," said Dudley, taking note of Harry's panicked look. "Talking in your sleep. _Moaning_."

"What d'you mean?" Harry said again, but there was a weight in his stomach. Last night he heard voices from back during the graveyard. He dreamt of the very real truth of his friends dying. One had, and he woke up sweating.

Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter then adopted a high-pitched, whimpering voice. "'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric – your boyfriend?"

Harry's mouth had gone dry. He knew Dudley wasn't lying – how else would he know?

"Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to –' _Don't you point that thing at me!"_

Harry pushed Dudley against the wall of the alley. Digging his wand into Dudley's chest; feeling fourteen years' of anger building on his tongue. As pleasing it might be to leave Dudley to crawl home, Harry relented. Not in the mood for his cousin's stupid taunts.

"Let's just go to the house. You can bitch all you want to Uncle Vernon later." He was done. For his own sake, Harry would rather get a thrashing than hear about his dead friend.

Thankfully Dudley stayed quiet. As though shocked they weren't bickering back and forth.

Something gave off a bad vibe. Then a temperature drop to below freezing surrounded them. The misty streetlamps turned off and sound of distant cars faded. A darkness a kin to pitch black cut off the light in the stone alleyway.

For a second Harry thought this was his doing, despite the fact that his magic turned his shadow shades darker when his emotions are wild. He turned his way this way and that, unable to see past the ally.

Dudley's terrified whimpering snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to foc-"

But he felt silent. He had heard long drawn breaths. He gulped, turning to the sound of the monster.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudly, shut -"

A fist made contact with the side of his head. Harry landed hard on the ground with his wand flying out of his hand.

"You moron, Dudley!" Harry yelled, his eyes watering with pain, as he scrambled to his hands and knees, now feeling around frantically in the blackness. He heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

There was a horrible squealing yell, and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Harry felt a creeping chill behind him that could mean only one thing. There was more than one. "DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's — wand — come on — Lumos!"

He got to his feet, able to see a few feet in front of him with the glowing orb of light at the end of his wand.

Harry turned around, expecting the second dementor to be at the other end of the ally.

It wasn't.

Before him floated a towering, hooded figure. No feet or face visible beneath torn robes.

Stumbling backward, Harry raised his wand.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

A pathetic excuse of a Patronus charm coughed out small wisps of white, stunning the Dementor, but not doing much help. Harry retreated father back, trying his best to concentrate.

He tried again, getting another wisp of sliver smoke.

There was laughter inside his own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter.

Harry turned his head away from the putrid breath that started to drown him in sadness. A bony, decaying hand griped his cheek, forcing his head to face the creature. The laughter grew louder, and a voice of Voldemort sounded in his ears. The mad man gloating as though death was easy to avoid. How Harry was too weak to escape it now.

He was tired of be looked down at-

And a face of Voldemort burst clearly into his mind as he wished to wipe of the man's sneer.

"I'M NOT WEAK!"

An enormous maw of darkness erupted from Harry's shadow; white pointed teeth pinning the dementor on both sides; it was crushed in half and devoured by the maw.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Harry yelled. Wheeling around, he saw a second serrated line of teeth chomp on a dead dementor. He ran to the curled up form of Dudley, bending down to help his shaking cousin.

Light and sound returned to normal with the dementors dead. Harry stood perfectly still, his eyes not leaving the… well… he had no idea what they were.

He could not believe what just happened. Dementors, _here_ in Little Whinging… and he killed them.

Suddenly the black maws retreated back into the shadow under his feet.

"Nox," said Harry, canceling out his light spell when he heard the footsteps of a newcomer.

xXx

"So," Harry panted, "Dumbledore's . . . been having . . . me followed?"

"Of course he has," said Mrs. Figg impatiently. "Did you expect him to let you wander around on your own after what happened in June? Good Lord, boy, they told me you were intelligent. . . . Right . . . get inside and stay there," she said as they reached number four.

"I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough."

"What are you going to do?" asked Harry quickly.

"I'm going straight home," said Mrs. Figg, staring around the dark street and shuddering. "I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house. Good night."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I want to know —" But Mrs. Figg had already set off at a trot, carpet slippers flopping, string bag clanking.

"Wait!" Harry shouted after her; he had a million questions to ask anyone who was in contact with Dumbledore; but within seconds Mrs. Figg was swallowed by the darkness. Scowling, Harry readjusted Dudley on his shoulder and made his slow, painful way up number four's garden path.

xXx

Harry took a deep, steady breath. Oh how he wished he had aspirin with him. His headache was getting worse by the minute dealing this the Dursleys. They demanded answers, and a still shaken Dudley pointing at him gave his uncle the wrong idea.

"I did the Patronus Charm to get rid of the dementors," he said, forcing himself to not shout at Uncle Vernon. "It's the only spell that works against them." Scratch that, _was_ the only spell. Apparently what Harry was now going to dub, fucking-creepy-as-shit-dark-magic, could kill a dementor. _Or anything able to be bitten in half._

"It's you, it's got something to do with you, boy, I know it. Why else would they turn up here? You're the only you-know-what for miles."

Uncle Vernon brought up a good point. No way in hell two dementors coming into Little Whinging happens to be a coincidence. From Harry's stand point two things might have happened: they deserted Azkaban, joining Voldemort, or the Ministry sent them.

"These demembers guard some weirdos' prison?" said Uncle Vernon, leaning forward, breaking Harry's train of thought.

"Yes," said Harry.

If only his head would stop hurting, he might be able to actually take a minute or two and _think…_

Uncle Vernon clamped his hands, looking like an ingenious idea struck him. "You're on the run from the law?"

Harry shook his head, then spent the next twenty minutes explaining how he thought Voldemort ordered the attack. Out of all those in the room, Aunt Petunia was the only one to show wide eyed fear. For the first time in Harry's life his aunt broke her normal narrowed gaze, and looked at Harry with worry. Uncle Vernon looked at his wife then back to Harry multiple times, then locked eyes with Harry.

"Well, that settles it," he said, puffing out his chest, "you can get out of this house, boy!"

The letters in his hand told Harry to not leave no matter what. But… Uncle Vernon was shouting now, gripping Harry's hand in a tight fist. They walked to the door, Harry being dragged and pushed outside.

"OUT! OUT! Get going! Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place I don't know. Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage, we were too damn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it out of you, return you to normal, but you've been rotten from the beginning. I should have thrown you out after I saw that m-magic you did. Even as a baby that shadow of yours creeped me out but I held my tongue. No longer! Now leave!"

Uncle Vernon slammed the door. Harry didn't know what to do now. Sirius wanted him to stay, but, well, he refused to stay at night on the porch. He just got kicked out, simple as that.

Harry wondered where he was going to stay. There were no hotels close by, and he didn't have a friend to stay with.

Then out of nowhere the front door opened. Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway, looking a little pale. "You're to stay in your room," she said. "You're not to leave the house. Now go to bed."

Harry didn't move.

"Why the change of heart?"

"Don't ask questions," Aunt Petunia snapped.

"But I don't understand!"

"Got to bed!"

"How come-?"

"YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW GET TO BED!"

xXx

The moment Hedwig flew off with his letters did Harry throw himself down onto his bed, already undressed. He fixed the covers over him, staring at the dark ceiling. He wondered if his friends were going to respond with some _real_ answers. Hedwig will hopefully come back tomorrow with details about leaving Privet Drive. But lately he felt as if they were treating him like a child. He should know, he was old enough to understand. Yet during the whole summer they kept in in the dark.

"I just want someone to talk to," he whispered out loud.

Harry rolled around on his back. Sleep taking him over and stopping further thoughts.

Some moments passed, and Harry woke up to an odd feeling. It felt as though something had gotten underneath his blanket. Harry spent the next few seconds completely still. Whatever the thing was – probably a spider – was crawling up his left thigh.

Harry flew the blanket off, intending the squish the tiny thing before it could bite him.

In the dark, he only spotted a small figure fly off his waist as he sat up. Harry blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the dark before the spider got away. It must not have been good at climbing, because he felt the pest bounce on his underwear before slipping down between his legs.

He scampered, deeply regretting being too tired to change into pajamas before going to sleep. Harry bent over, he wasn't going to be bit _there_ of all places.

He scooted back, trying to find the pest without before losing it. He knew the worst thing in the world was knowing about a spider, but unable to kill it. If he didn't find it now it might come back when he's sleeping.

He scanned the bed sheet in front of him, thankful his eyesight adjusted to the low light. He spotted movement by his thigh. Harry thrust his palm down. He hissed in pain when his hand slapped bar skin, but felt relief of finally hearing the crunch of little bones.

Harry wiped the remains into his hand, while he put on his glasses.

I small red light drew his attention back to his hand. With his eyesight crisp he became confused as to what he was seeing. I pile of bones and blood sparked red lightening. The wired magic wasn't his doing. Harry realized that the red glow coming off the remains of the spider were coming from the pile of flesh.

Now with red light making it easier to see, Harry almost gaged.

The flesh paste was mending itself…

 _Did I just kill a magical creature by accident? And is it healing?_

For five seconds Harry watched in awe. Bloody paste started forming into a shape once again. Then skin started to regrow as the former creature began making a definitive shape. A human outline.

So the red lightning went on for another five seconds. After it was done Harry started filling his brain with questions. Wondering if it was even possible for him to be holding a person in his palm. Well, scratch that, the person isn't human obviously. At the size of a pea, Harry found himself staring into violet eyes. The magical creature looked like a human child. Maybe eleven if he had to guess, and had short black hair combed neatly.

The tiny boy – had Harry conform it was a boy – stood on his palm. A serous frown on his face. Harry despite his confusion, found his cheeks going red. Did the boy not understand covering up his parts?

"What are you?" said Harry, as it was clearly a magical creature.

"I guess I should skip the twenty question now or we'll be up all night," said the boy. His voice sounding like a child's but with a tone that told Harry to shut up. "I guess you can say I'm a homunculus. It means an artificially created human. You made me – or I guess not you exactly – you're mother experimented in ways of surviving the killing cure. From her experiments my basic concept was made. She gave her life to power a small red jewel that had been a conductor of her magic." He paused, but didn't take a breath which Harry felt was strange.

"I had a limited conscious at the time. I only knew my design was to deflect magic. I, powered by your mother's soul, rebounded the killing curse onto our attacker. After the dark lords death my purpose was fulfilled and my core, the jewel, turned to dust, entering your blood stream in the process.

I believe once Voldemort's dark magic touched you as a baby you gained some of his abilities and woken a trait of mine. Hence what occurred earlier tonight?"

Harry nodded, remembering the odd thing he could do with his shadow.

"I believe Voldemort's resurrection ritual affected me as well. Allowing me to your blood to form my own body also."

Seeing that he was done, and motioning for Harry to ask question, about a dozen come to mind.

"What's you name then?"

"I've never had a name. My title is that of a homunculus, but only because we you studied Nickolas Flamel you came across that term when reading about the Philosopher's Stone. Though if you want a name… Pride, because I'm the first of my kind."

"Okay, Pride then, because you did your job and protected me. Thanks."

"Your welcome."

"So, that shadow power?"

"Mine I believe, created when I absorbed Vodemort's dark magic. Don't know why shadow's but I believe that to be my true form."

"Huh?"

"After my rebirth, I started feeding power off your magic. I started to grow a black ooze around by reformed core. Currently I'm inside your body, just under the skin. I've fill most of your body, as a form of protection."

Nodding, Harry's brain tried understanding all this new information at once. It was starting to get fried.

Harry felt completely wiped out by this turn of events. However he at least had a connection to his mother and something of a family heirloom in Pride on his mother's side.

About to pass out, Harry had the energy to ask another question. "So then, if you're inside of me, why are you shrunken and looking like a kid?"

"A mobile container makes it easier to look after you and run errands, Harry. And now that I am able to think on my own, I'm much more useful for idle tasks."

"As a size of a pea?"

"I'll work on forming a bigger body," Pride simply said.

Harry groaned. He didn't want a servant. Pride was going to be like his personal house elf by the sound of it. Though at least he some type of protection now, a gift from his mother, and that thought made him fall asleep happy with Pride next to him.

* * *

 **So I figured you just wanted to read the story so I put the notes on the bottom. I don't own FMAB or Harry Potter of course. Thoughts? Suggestions? Put it down below, let me know.**

 **This is Bluefire wishing you guys a great day. See ya. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Harry slid off his bed, pacing the span of the window to the door. For a whole three days now he rotted in his room, going over his worries about the Ministry hearing. As procedure, underage magic was often followed by an investigation and a trial of some sort. It was sheer luck Dumbledore got the Ministry to reconsider snapping his wand until after the trial.

If they found him guilty he'd be kicked out of the magical world forever. No wand, no magic, and Harry shuddered at the thought of spending the school year with the Dursleys. Thankfully they'd been avoiding him now for three days. Aunt Petunia shoved his three meals a day through the cap flat Uncle Vernon had installed some summers ago.

Harry was glad to see they kept away from his bedroom. Seeing as Pride stayed on his bed twenty four seven. During these three days Harry kept pacing his bedroom at odd hours, filled with bent up anger at the whole lot of his friends for leaving him clueless during the one time he needed help. Anxiety griped him to his core, aching his brain at the thought of the trial so much that lied on his bed staring into space for hours.

Which lead to him thinking about what magic they could and could not track. Harry knew from the warning he got before his second year that the Ministry tracked elf magic. Harry got a letter with a warning because the formally Malfoy house-elf, Dobby, levitated a pudding bowl in the kitchen. So per experience, Harry refrained any illegal magic of any kind. Including Pride's attempt at growing a normal container.

On the fourth night after Hedwig's departure Harry was lying in one of his apathetic phases, staring at the ceiling, his exhausted mind quite black, when his uncle entered his bedroom. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit, and an expression of smugness when Harry looked at him.

"We're going out," he said.

"Sorry?"

"We – that is to say, your aunt, Dudley, and I – are going out."

"Fine," said Harry, uninterested.

"You are not to leave your bedroom while we are away."

"Okay."

"You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions."

"Right."

"You are not to steal food from the fridge."

"Okay."

"I am going to lock your door."

"You do that."

Harry heard the key turn in the lock and his uncle's heavy footsteps down the stairs. Soon after they left in their car speeding out the driveway.

Harry, not feeling the energy to turn on his light, waited in the dark for Hedwig. The empty house creaked around him. He laid in kind of limpness way, thinking of nothing.

"I still don't get this attitude of yours. For the past four days we've done nothing."

"Now much we can do," said Harry. "I'm stuck in here."

"Can I be of assistance then?" Even though Harry had already told him no a few times before this, Pride still offered.

Pride really wanted to make him happy. Harry compared Pride to Dobby in that way. Although Harry felt more inclined to accept his servitude unlike with Dobby. But with being stuck in his room for the past four days Harry saw nothing for Pride to work on. He already cleaned the room and his aunt made his food.

"There's nothing to do…" Harry paused, thinking. "Well… my glasses need cleaning."

And with that Harry felt the bare feet of his homunculus walk up arm. Pride jumped after reaching Harry's shoulder, landing on his forehead.

Harry grew wide eyed, impressed with Pride's physical abilities. At normal size Pride would have jumped as tall as a one-story building.

Pride walked over the bridge of Harry's glasses, turned around, and sat down on Harry's nose, like he was riding a horse. He spat into his hands, then started to spit shine Harry's glasses.

"When do you think you'll be able to use magic again?"

Harry sighed. For the last four days he was asking himself that question. "If I'm not found guilty – or arrested for breaking the Statute of Secrecy – I can start using my wand at Hogwarts."

As Pride finished cleaning the second lens, both of them heard a distinct crash in the kitchen below. Pride jumped on the bed, letting Harry sit upright.

"I'm hearing multiple voices downstairs."

Snatching his wand from his bedside table, Harry pointed his weapon at the door. It happened to be locked, but then again Harry knew an expert on key holes.

He turned to Pride, looking down at his tiny friend. "Can you pick the lock?"

"It'll be easy."

Harry scooped him up into his left hand. Listening with all his might, Harry reached out to let Pride try the key hole. Next moment he jumped as the lock gave a loud click and the door swung open.

The two in the room looked at each other before Harry moved silently out of his room. He closed a fist around his shrunken partner, not daring to expose Pride's existence to the intruders.

He heart shot into his throat. There were people standing in the shadowy hall below, silhouetted against the streetlight glowing through the glass door; eight or nine of them, all, as far as he could see, looking up the stairs at him.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," said a low, growling voice.

Harry knew the voice, so he lowered his wand. As suspicious as having nine unknown people in his house was, he figured if Professor Moody happened to be among them the others were trustworthy. ' _Well… considering last year I better keep my guard up.'_ Hell will freeze over before Harry starts to rely on another person not already on his bucket list.

"It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."

Harry's heart leapt. He'd know that voice anywhere.

"Professor Lupin?" he said disbelievingly. "Are you serious?"

"Why are we standing in the dark?" said a third voice, this one completely unfamiliar, a women's. " _Lumos_ "

"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would," said the witch who was holding her lit wand aloft. She looked the youngest there; she had a pale heart-shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and short spiky hair that was a violent shade of violet. "Hi aye, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," said a bald black wizard standing farthest back; he had a deep, slow voice and wore a single gold hoop in his ear. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," said a wheezy-voiced, silver-haired wizard at the back. "Lily's eyes."

Mad-Eye Moody, who had long frizzled gray hair and a large chunk missing from his nose, was squinting suspiciously at Harry through his mismatched eyes. At the sight of his old professor's eyes Harry's smile at seeing Lupin faded a little. Moody's darker eye and blue eye kept tabs on him. Mostly his unblinking magical eye – the blue one – that could see through walls, doors, and the back of Moody's own head.

And right now being at the focus of one magical eye able to look through flesh scared Harry. Not only did he have Pride in his closed left fist, but his own body was filled with the black shadows of Pride's true form. So Harry pleated to Merlin for Moody to not look further down than his collarbone and hoping Moody had the decency to turn it off. No man wants to see naked people every waking moment.

"Are you quite sure it's him, Lupin?" he growled. "It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" said Lupin.

"A stag," said Harry nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye," said Lupin.

Harry descended the stairs, very aware of being stared at by the others in the room he was unfamiliar with. When he started shaking hands with some of them he felt better, and inwardly relieved when Mad-Eye got off into a conversation with the violet hair girl. It seemed he wasn't using his flesh piercing sight currently, just his enhanced peripheral vision because he called out the woman's use of the middle finder after their spat.

"I'm — you're really lucky the Dursleys are out . . ." Harry mumbled.

"Lucky, ha!" said the violet-haired woman. "It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling them they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now. . . . Or they think they are."

"I hope we're leaving soon?" He said, looking at Lupin.

"Just waiting for the all-clear." He motioned Harry toward the kitchen; the little knot of wizards followed, all still eyeing Harry curiously.

"This is Nymphadora —"

"Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," said the young witch with a shudder. "It's Tonks."

"— Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," finished Lupin.

"So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora,' " muttered Tonks.

"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt," he indicated the tall black wizard, who bowed.

Lupin went off to list the others of the group. Harry inclined his head to each of them as they were introduced. For the other lady of the group, Emmeline Vance, Harry kissed her hand. It didn't hurt to practice formal greetings to his elders. It showed he was competent and might be invited to higher circles by a pretty looking pureblood witch like Ms. Vance.

She might be under Dumbledore, but having a more active relationship with his supporters will boost his popularity outside of Hogwarts. This decision got brought on by a lot of thinking about Draco and the Ministry in general. Draco's father will be a vote at the trial, and Harry knew full well the amount of power Lucius Malfoy has. If Harry didn't start making connections and bring up his image the votes at the trial may be against him.

"Oh what a proper young lad," commented Ms. Vance.

"How're we getting — wherever we're going?" Harry asked.

"Brooms," said Lupin. "Only way. You're too young to Apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorized Portkey."

"Remus says you're a good flier," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep voice.

"He's excellent," said Lupin, who was checking his watch. "Anyway, you'd better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"I'll come and help you," said Tonks brightly. She followed Harry back into the hall and up the stairs, looking around with much curiosity and interest. "Funny place," she said, "it's a bit too clean, d'you know what I mean? Bit unnatural. Oh, this is better," she added, as they entered Harry's bedroom and he turned on the light.

Harry knew Pride wanted to be useful and pick up, but unable to be bigger than a pea the little kid had a limit with what he could clean.

His bed room was clean for the most part. Other than scattered books on the floor the bed a least was made. He'd tried to distract himself by reading old magic books to Pride for the last four days. Hedwig's cage needed cleaning out and was starting to smell, and his truck lay open, revealing a jumbled mixture of Muggle clothes and wizard's robes that had spilled onto the floor around it.

He started to pick up books and throw them hastily into his truck. While he was bent down he opened his left fist. With Tonks behind him, Harry discreetly pointed to his trunk and then to his jeans pocket. Pride pointed at his trunk which surprised Harry who thought it might be fun to show his friend his superior flying skills.

Then without reason Pride dropped, unmoving in his hand.

Harry went wide eyed. He started shaking his hand, worry crossing his face.

 _Pride… Pride… no, please, what's going on?_

 **/Calm down Harry, I'm right here. Wait! Don't yell!/**

Harry had to grit his teeth to keep quite. A startled yell died in his throat.

"You know, I don't think purple's really my color," Tonks said from behind him. Harry looked over his shoulder, noticing the girl tugging at of lock of hair. "D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?"

"Er-" said Harry, not quite sure how to respond to her idle chatter.

"Yeah, it does," she said decisively. She screwed up her eyes in a strained expression as through she were struggling to remember something. A second later, her hair had turned bubble-gum pink.

"How did you do that?" said Harry, gaping at her as she opened her eyes again.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus," she said, looking at her reflection in his closet mirror. "It means I can change my appearance at will," she added, spotting Harry's puzzled expression he threw her over his shoulder. "I was born one. I got top marks in Concealment and Disguise during Auror training without any study at all, it was great."

 **/A useful ability if I ever saw one./**

Harry agreed with Pride, while also wondering how they were both seeing the same thing.

"So you graduated Auror training?" said Harry, impressed.

"Yeah," said Tonks, looking proud. "Kingsley is as well; he's a bit higher up than I am, though. I only qualified a year ago. Nearly failed on Stealth and Tracking, I'm dead clumsy, did you hear me break that plate when we arrived downstairs?"

"Can you learn how to be a Metamorphmagus?" Harry asked her, straightening up, completely forgetting about packing or Pride's voice in his head.

Tonks chuckled.

"Bet you wouldn't mind hiding that scar sometimes, eh?" Her eyes found the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead.

"No, I wouldn't mind," Harry mumbled, turning away. People have been making an image about him to _their_ expectations for years. With all shit being tossed his way, Harry sometimes wanted to be who he wanted to be. A free life, void of _others'_ expectations.

"Well, you'll have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid," said Tonks. "Metamorphmagi are really rare, they're born, not made. Most wizards need to use a wand or potions to change their appearance… but we've got to get going, Harry, we're supposed to be packing," she added guiltily, looking around at all the mess on the floor.

Harry grabbed a few more books, keeping Pride out of sight.

"Here, it'll be much quicker if I – _pack_!" cried Tonks, waving her wand in a long, sweeping movement over the floor. Books, clothes, telescope, and scales all soared into the air and flew pell-mell into the trunk.

"It's not very neat," said Tonks, walking over to the trunk and looking down at the jumble inside. "My mum's got this knack of getting stuff to fit itself in neatly — she even gets the socks to fold themselves — but I've never mastered how she does it — it's a kind of flick —" She flicked her wand hopefully; one of Harry's socks gave a feeble sort of wiggle and flopped back on top of the mess within.

"Ah, well," said Tonks, slamming the trunk's lid shut, "at least it's all in. That could do with a bit of cleaning, too – _Scourgify_ –" She pointed her wand at Hedwig's cage; a few feathers and droppings vanished.

""Well, that's a bit better — I've never quite got the hang of these sort of householdy spells. Right — got everything? Cauldron? Broom? Wow! A Firebolt?"

Harry nodded, it was his pride and joy, a gift from Sirius, an international standard broomstick.

"And I'm still riding a Comet Two Sixty," said Tonks enviously. "Ah well… wand still in your jeans?"

"Yeah, but hold on I want to put one more thing in there." Harry opened his truck, digging through his pile of clothes. He dropped Pride's limp body in the middle and withdrew his hand. If somebody went and opened his truck they'd never think to check a pair of white undies for anything of importance.

"Okay let's go. _Locomotor Truck._ "

Harry's trunk rose of the floor and followed Tonks down the stairs. Harry walked right behind her with his broom and owl cage.

"Excellent," said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —"

"They won't," said Harry.

"That you're safe —"

"That'll just depress them."

"— and you'll see them next summer."

"Do I have to?" Lupin smiled but made no answer.

"Come here, boy," said Moody gruffly, beckoning Harry toward him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."

"You need to what?" said Harry nervously.

"Disillusionment Charm," said Moody, raising his wand.

"Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go —" He rapped Harry hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had struck.

"Nice one, Mad-Eye," said Tonks appreciatively, staring at Harry's midriff. Harry looked down at his body, or rather, what had been his body, for it didn't look anything like his anymore. It was not invisible; it had simply taken on the exact color and texture of the kitchen unit behind him. He seemed to have become a human chameleon.

"Come on," said Moody, unlocking the back door with his wand. They all stepped outside onto Uncle Vernon's beautifully kept lawn.

"Clear night," grunted Moody, his magical eye scanning the heavens. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you," he barked at Harry, "we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail. Lupin'll be covering you from below. I'm going to be behind you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed —"

"Is that likely?" Harry asked apprehensively, but Moody ignored him.

"— the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they'll join you."

"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously," said Tonks, as she strapped Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom. _/I hope she gets my truck back safe, last thing I need are Death Eaters knowing about Pride./_

 **/I pity the Death Eater who first sees me./**

/Wait… hold on… how'd you read my thoughts?/

Harry heard a very long sigh from Pride. **/You aren't keeping your thoughts private./**

"I'm just telling the boy the plan," growled Moody. Harry found himself trying hard to talk with Pride and listen to the conversation around him.

/So if this is me mentally talking with you, how do I think to myself?/

"Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt —"

 **/Just think deeper. It'll come naturally./**

"No one's going to die," said Kingsley Shacklebolt in his deep, calming voice.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" said Lupin sharply, pointing into the sky. Far, far above them, a shower of bright red sparks had flared among the stars.

Harry recognized them at once as wand sparks. He swung his right leg over his Firebolt, gripped its handle tightly, and felt it vibrating very slightly, as though it was as keen as he was to be up in the air once more.

"Second signal, let's go!" said Lupin loudly, as more sparks, green this time, exploded high above them. Harry kicked off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushed through his hair as the neat square gardens of Privet Drive fell away.

xXx

Harry looked around the musty hallway of the second floor of the Order's headquarters. Number 12 Grimmauid Place looked like a spectacular mansion reduced to a moldy motel. Along the hallway stood an umbrella stand made of severed troll legs. And moth eaten curtains covered what Harry guessed to be a door. He followed Mrs. Weasley passed a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer looked showed Harry that the heads belong to house-elves.

What on earth were they doing in a house that looked as though it belonged to the Darkest of wizards? /I'm trying to wrap my head around this. It looks like a forgotten dark wizard lived here./

 **/I don't see the sanity in keeping their shrunken heads,/** commented Pride, sounding utterly disgusted.

"Mrs. Weasley, why – ?"

"Ron and Hermione will explain everything, dear, I've really got to dash," Mrs. Weasley whispered distractedly. "There" – they had reached a door – "I'll call you when the meeting is over."

And she hurried off downstairs again.

Harry turned the bedroom doorknob, feeling the irony of it being a serpent's head, and opened his new bedroom door. He caught the sight of a twin-bedded room right before his vison was blocked by a large quantity of something soft and curved – Hermione had thrown herself onto him in a hug that knocked him flat.

"HARRY! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless — but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got to tell us — the dementors! When we heard — and that Ministry hearing — it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations —"

"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning, closing the door behind Harry. He seemed to have grown several more inches during their month apart, making him taller and more gangly looking than ever, though the long nose, bright red hair, and freckles were the same.

Hermione, still beaming, got off of Harry, but before she got in another word there was a soft whooshing sound and something white soared from the top of the dark wardrobe and laded gently on Harry's shoulder.

"Hedwig!" The owl owl clicked her beak and nibbled his ear affectionately as Harry stroked her feathers.

"She's been in a right state," said Ron. "Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this —"

He showed Harry the index finger of his right hand, which sported a half-healed but clearly deep cut.

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "Sorry about that, but I wanted answers, you know. . . ."

"We wanted to give them to you, mate," said Ron. "Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you'd do something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news, but Dumbledore made us —"

"— swear not to tell me," said Harry. "Yeah, Hermione's already said." The warm glow that had flared inside him at the sight of his two best friends was extinguished as something icy flooded the pit of his stomach. All of a sudden — after yearning to see them for a solid month — he felt he would rather Ron and Hermione left him alone.

There was a strained silence in which Harry stroked Hedwig automatically, not looking at either of the others. /Hey, Pride, do you think I should forgive them. 'Cause I'm really confused right now. They're my best friends… but…/ Harry dropped off, unable to understand his emotions.

"He seemed to think it was best," said Hermione rather breathlessly. "Dumbledore, I mean."

"Right," said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig's beak and found that he was not at all sorry.

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —" Ron began.

"Yeah?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows. "Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?"

"Well, no — but that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time —"

Harry felt a jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him.

"Didn't work that well, though, did it?" said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. "Had to look after myself after all, didn't I?" Harry felt movement under his skin. /And you of course./

"He was so angry," said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. "Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary."

"Well, I'm glad he left," Harry said coldly. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer."

 **/And I would've never gained a form of individuality./**

/Huh?/

 **/After I devoured the dementors I absorbed their energy. It felt great, eating all those foul souls they kissed. I am much more now than I ever was the moment that dementor touched your cheek."**

Just under Pride's voice Harry heard Hermione asking him if he was worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing.

"No," Harry lied defiantly. In truth he wanted to run but hope stood in his way. "So why's Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark? Did you – er – bother to ask him it all?"

An exchanging look between them told him he was behaving just as they had feared he would. It did nothing to improve his blood boiling.

"We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you what was going on," said Ron. "We did, mate. But he's really busy now, we've only seen him twice since we came here and he didn't have much time, he just made us swear not to tell you important stuff when we wrote, he said the owls might be intercepted —"

"He could still've kept me informed if he'd wanted to," Harry said shortly. "You're not telling me he doesn't know ways to send messages without owls."

Hermione glanced at Ron and then said, "I thought that too. But he didn't want you to know _anything_."

"Maybe he thinks I can't be trusted," said Harry, watching their expressions. If his friends were on his side they'd stand to his defense.

"Don't be think," said Ron, looking highly unsettled.

"Yeah? So what else does Dumbledore think I can't do? Obviously he thinks I can't take care of myself -"

"Of course he doesn't think that!" said Hermione anxiously.

"So how come I have to stay at the Dursleys' while you two get to join in everything that's going on here?" said Harry, the words tumbling over one another in a rush, his voice growing louder with every world. "How come you two are allowed to know everything that's going on –?"

"We're not!" Ron interrupted. "Mum won't let us near the meetings, she says we're too young –"

But before he knew it, Harry was shouting.

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT — WHO SAVED THE SORCERER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?"

Every bitter and resentful thought Harry had for the past month poured out; his creditably being flushed by the papers, the hurt that they had been together without him, and his fury at being followed and not told about it: All the feelings he felt half-ashamed of finally burst their boundaries.

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO SEE _CEDRIC_ DIE? ME!" Unknown to Harry, his eyes shined in the limited light offered by the gas lamps.

Ron stood there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for calmer words, while Hermione looked on the verge of tears – yet surprised momentarily.

"BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

"Harry, we wanted to tell you, we really did —" Hermione began.

"CAN'T'VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU'D HAVE FIGURED OUT SOME OTHER WAY. MUGGEL MAIL, E-MAIL, OR JUST A SIMPLE PHONE CALL, BUT _DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR –"_

"Harry, we're really sorry!" said Hermione desperately, her eyes now sparkling with tears. "You're absolutely right, Harry — I'd be furious if it was me!"

Harry glared, still breathing deeply, then turned away from them. Hedwig hooted glumly from the top of the wardrobe. There was a long pause, broken only by the mournful creak of the floor board's bellow Harry's feet.

During his pause Harry weighed two emotions in his gut. Either he felt above his friends – he viewed his importance out reached theirs, like he _deserved_ to be in the know because of _his_ accomplishments – or an ache of understanding that his friends did what they were told – that they held on to their beliefs and saw their actions as protecting him.

Did he give into his self-importance… or sorrowed disappointment at being underestimated in good faith?

 **/Harry.../** Pride began in his head, his voice hesitant. **/It hurts, I get that – I'm here for you… always – but being angry at your friends isn't healthy. Friends like them are hard to come by. They only thought in your best interest and stuck to their trust in Dumbledore - whom they thought was right. Feeling hurt and sad is okay. You're human, and arrogance doesn't fit you./**

Harry blinked in confusion. /Aren't you a literal embodiment of my pride? Why are you telling me to be disappointed and sad for what they did when you are my self-importance?/

 **/'Cause having loyal friends is more vital than seeing them as beneath you. _I_ perceive all other beings as inferior. _My_ self-entitlement focuses on being the best and most loyal to you. I _won't_ accept another person with your life and _I_ currently think all these humans around us are pathetic. Yet… _You_ , on the other hand, should find the best in humanity, understand human mistakes, and forgive. Arrogance leads to mistrust, and in turn makes a human cold. I don't want to see that, Harry. You're all I have, my purpose, so don't become cold hearted because you start shutting people out./**

Harry came back to reality, with tears running down his cheeks. He gave himself a moment to dry them.

"What is this place anyway?" he turned to Ron and Hermione, trying his best to wipe away his tears.

"Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," said Ron at once.

"It's a secret society," Hermione added. "Dumbledore's in charge, he founded it. It's the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time."

And for once Harry finally got some answers. Ron and Hermione didn't have all the details of course, just the high points. He learned that the Order has a small following, as nobody believes his or Dumbledore's claim of Voldemort being back. During the whole summer his name, and the headmaster's, has been run in the mud by the _Daily Prophet._ Building on the garbage Rita Skeeter had written about him a year prior.

"They keep slipping in snide comments about you. If some far-fetched story appears they say something like 'a tale worthy of Harry Potter' and if anyone has a funny accident or anything it's 'let's hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next —' " said Ginny sadly, walking into the conversion with Fred and George.

"I didn't ask – I didn't want – _Voldemort killed my parents!"_ Harry spluttered. "I got famous because he murdered my family, but couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they think I'd rather it'd never –"

"We _know_ , Harry," said Ginny earnestly. Then Pride's voice got his attention.

 **/Hahahaha!/** he laughed joyfully. **/I can't wait smash this _Daily Prophet_ place into… tiny… little… shreds!"**

/Oh, good idea Pride, I mean, if my wand's getting snapped storming into the newspaper room at the Ministry will surly get me in less trouble…/ Harry deadpanned.

Focusing back to his friends he heard Hermione going on hastily. "…you really shouldn't be, not if they abide by their own laws, there's no case against you."

Great, they were talking about his hearing now. Not wanting to think about – and a tad thankful toward Hermione for letting him know his odds – he fished around for another subject.

While he was thinking Mrs. Weasley came to fetch her daughter and older boys. Ron stayed behind, he must have given his mother a certain look for her to not mention anything. Now just the three of them both Ron and Hermione watched him apprehensively, as though they feared he might start shouting again or curl up in a ball. And Harry felt slightly ashamed to make his friends worry.

"Look…" he muttered, but Ron shook his head, and Hermione said quietly, "We knew you'd be angry, Harry, we really don't blame you, but you've got to understand, we _did_ try and persuade Dumbledore –"

"Yeah, I know," said Harry grudgingly. He cast around for a topic to change the subject from Dumbledore — the very thought of him made Harry's insides burn with anger again.

Harry stomach growled rather loudly. ' _Found my subject.'_

"Yeah, yeah," said Ron. "C'mon, I'm starving."

As they passed the row of house-elf heads on the wall they saw Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks at the front door, magically sealing its many locks and bolts. ' _Somebody must have just walked out.'_

"We're eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley whispered, meeting them at the bottom of the stairs. "Harry, dear, if you'll just tiptoe across the hall, it's through this door here —"

CRASH.

"Tonks!" cried Mrs. Weasley exasperatedly, turning to look behind her. "I'm sorry!" wailed Tonks, who was lying flat on the floor. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over —"

/AHHHHH!/ **/AHHHHH!/**

Harry, along with everyone else, tried desperately to protect their ears from a bloodcurdling screech.

Behind the disgusting curtains he saw earlier wasn't another door, but a live-size portrait. The old woman inside it drooled and frantically shifted her eyes to each person in the room. It was this woman's screech making his ears bleed, and he wondered if she got tortured before her death to make his head spin so much.

Lupin and Mrs. Weasley darted forward and tried to tug the curtains shut over the old woman, but they would not close and she screeched louder than ever, brandishing clawed hands as though trying to tear at their faces.

 _"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers —"_

Tonks apologized over and over again, at the same time dragging the huge, heavy troll's leg back off the floor. Then a man with long black hair came charging out of a door facing Harry. "Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" he roared, seizing the curtain Mrs. Weasley had abandoned.

The old woman's face blanched. "Yoooou!" she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh!"

"I said — shut — UP!" roared the man, and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again. The old woman's screeches died and an echoing silence fell. Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, Harry's godfather, Sirius, turned to face him. "Hello, Harry," he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother."

xXx

Everyone in the house sat at a long dining table for supper. Things had gotten off to a rocky start with Fred and George horsing around. Harry was going in idle chit chat with Mr. Weasley, Bill and Lupin, talking about the Goblins refusal to take sides because of a goblin called Ragnok.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley on a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

Conversations all around the table stopped.

"I did!" said Harry irately, noticing stares pointed his way. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so —"

"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're too young." She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen —"

"Hang on!" interrupted George loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" said Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George.

" 'You're too young, you're not in the Order,' " said Fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's. "Harry's not even of age!"

Then things really got heated. Back and forth Mrs. Weasly and Sirius went. And Harry starting to get mad at being talked about as if he wasn't sitting next to Sirius.

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" said Mrs. Weasley. "He's only fifteen and —"

"— and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order," said Sirius, "and more than some —"

"No one's denying what he's done!" said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. "But he's still —"

"He's not a child!" said Sirius impatiently.

"He's not an adult either!" said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. "He's not James, Sirius!"

"I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly," said Sirius coldly.

"I'm not sure you are!" said Mrs. Weasley. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

 **/…Humans…/**

Harry grunted in agreement with his homunculus. Though he kind of agreed with Mrs. Weasley about Sirius treating him like James. He was tired of being compared to his parents. One was an amazing seeker but a big-headed bully, and gratefully his mother had no bad qualities about her, she mastered school with high marks and saved the wizarding world; leaving behind an heirloom that Harry only knew about. But that never meant Harry wanted to be just like his parents.

Instead he wanted to choose his life – and yes he thanked his parents for their legacy and goals - however, he could say no to following in their footsteps.

So Harry gave a pleading look to Lupin. Hoping the werewolf, in calm words, might be able to stop them.

"Well," said Mrs. Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, "well . . . I can see I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart —"

"He's not your son," said Sirius quietly.

"He's as good as," said Mrs. Weasley fiercely. "Who else has he got?"

"He's got me!"

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley, her lip curling. "The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Sirius started to rise from his chair.

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Lupin sharply. "Sirius, _sit down_."

It got all quite again. Seeing his cue, Harry stood from his seat. Making sure to glare at Sirius. "I'm my own man Sirius. My Dad's dead, end of story. I'm asking you nicely to stop treating me like my father. I hate being compared to him, all I want is for you to see me as only Harry." He moved his glare to Mrs. Weasley, though softened his eyes. "Thank you for standing up for me but this is my fight. He's the one gunning for me. Being an innocent child stopped working after he tried to kill me in my first year."

Then he looked to Lupin. "Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? And what magic does he have at his disposable?"

* * *

 **I don't own FMAB or Harry Potter of course. Thoughts? Suggestions? Put it down below, let me know.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

A steady breathing from Harry gave him his cue. Pride focused on his smaller container, sending his control to the un-moving body of his own creation. His smaller form let him be able to move; a feeling he hadn't experienced in a couple days.

 _'Now then… where did Harry put me?'_ Pride mused to himself.

Pitch darkness surrounded him, and he tried to stand, only to hit his forehead against a ceiling. In fact, it felt as though he was pressed against two soft pillows. Pride frowned, an idea as to where he was coming to mind. After he moved his conscious into Harry's body, Harry had tossed current container into his truck.

Chiding himself for forgetting that, Pride got to work on crawling upwards. When he reached the surface of Harry's clothes he frowned. With it being pitch black he didn't know the side the key hole was on. Pride walked quickly, jumping over socks and books in his way.

With a few laps around the inside of the truck he found it. The moment he stepped through and dropped to the floor he blinked, happy his enhanced eyesight allowed him to see clearly with only a fraction of light.

Though he didn't need his above human hearing to know Ron was fast asleep. The Weasley boy's snoring almost drowned out Harry's steady breaths. Neither of them stirred, not that they could hear his footsteps at his small height anyway.

Pride ran to the door, shifting his purple eyes back to Harry every so often. His master laid out quietly asleep on his bed. Harry looked peaceful despite all the worrying he'd been doing about the Ministry hearing later today. "I'll come back before you leave, I promise," he whispered.

Pride slid through the gap between the door and the wooden floor. He held close to the left wall. Everybody in the house at this point would be sleeping, except for whoever did guard duty. Pride scoffed, he'll most likely never run into him or her. And if he did, they'd miss him by a mile. It'd be a first for his small stature to come in handy.

Pride proceeded to use his Homunculus abilities to his advantage. Leaping down each stair of the staircase until he landed on the first floor. His legs sparked red energy, healing whatever bones he broke in the process.

Pride, eyes closed, turned this way and that. A soft thumping graced his ears from down the hallway connecting to the kitchen. Pride opened his eyes. He took off in a sprint, his bare feet bleeding because of the ruff floor boards. It took time, but he passed the entry way into the kitchen and turned a corner.

He crouched down against the wall, careful to stay in the house-elf's blind spot. It looked old. Loose-fitting skin all over the body and bald like all house-elves. It had horrible white hair growing out of its large, bat like ear. As a servant of the Black family it acted as if it saw itself better than others.

And it needed to be punished for calling Harry's friend a Mudblood. For treating the godfather of his master, Harry, like filth, and being a horrible thing in general. As Pride saw it, Sirius had been right, the hunchback house-elf knows too much about the Order. Which just so happens to be protecting Harry.

 _'It has to go. Cutting off a possible risk to Harry now will be safer than chancing Kreacher will stay quiet,'_ thought Pride as the house-elf disappeared into a closet along the dingy hall.

Pride waited a minute before he followed. He slid under the door.

He quickly realized the closet happened to be Kreacher's bedroom – if he could call a tiny room with a rug for a bed a bedroom – and doubled as a junk room. In piles around him, Pride made out objects bearing the Black family "B". Tea cups, books, and odd little nook knacks decorated the room. Pride had no doubts most of these had a curse or a spell on them.

Pride remembered everything Harry and his friends encountered while cleaning in the house. So he made sure to keep away from the piles, not sure what might come alive and grab him.

Kreacher stood in the middle of the room. He was digging in his loincloth. "Master and blood traitors think they're clever, taking Mistress's possessions, but Kreacher saved Master Regulus's locket," drawled the house-elf, "won't let them throw it out, not when Master Regulus entrusted it to Kreacher." The house-elf pulled out a golden locket, and set it on the ground.

Pride smirked. He saw the house-elf lay on the rug, its back to him. Pride moved forward silently. Neighboring the locket were other items. Including a familiar music box. When they were cleaning the chamber room earlier, Ginny had slammed it shut after everyone got shaky knees hearing its melody. But Pride never felt anything at the time, which meant he had a resistance to it, and hoped the house-elf didn't

Pride strolled up to the music box. With both hands he opened it, letting the gears turn on. A soft song started to play. Kreacher stirred from his sleep for a moment before becoming still. The old house-elf's breathing steadied and grew slower. Pride watched the vile thing's face go pale, and gained shortened breaths. Its breathing came out further apart and in shorter breaths. Soon the song ended, and Kreacher had stopped breathing completely.

Pride reached up and closed the music box. He checked for a pulse on Kreacher's neck, there was none.

Satisfied, Pride decided he'd take the locket with him. The dead house-elf expressed a lot of attachment to it. "I'll be giving this to those blood traitors you hate so much. I'm sure you won't mind." Pride grabbed the locket's chain.

It sparked.

Pride jumped back. "What?" he yelled. As soon as he touched it he felt something. It, the locket, had the feeling of a dementor. Pride narrowed his eyes. The magic on the locket stored a soul inside.

Pride, very slowly smiled. He touched the locket again, making red sparks flow between his hand and it. "I don't how you did this Voldemort. Clever. Nobody would have thought you to try this. I haven't the slightest clue as to how you did it, but I can sense your tainted magic." Pride held has hand firm against the locket. The red light coming off the thing was blinding. "I guess I'll give you mercy. Not much left of you in here to pose a threat anyway."

Pride withdrew his hand. In his palm sat a small red jewel. He popped it into his mouth, rolling it on his tongue for a bit then swallowed it. "Enjoy screaming within a tempest of souls," said Pride gleefully. He rubbed his naked stomach, grinning to himself as he made his way back to Harry's bedroom.

xXx

"The law's on your side," said Lupin quietly. "Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations."

Pride stood just outside the doorway to the kitchen. Killing that pathetic house-elf had taken longer than he thought. He had hoped to make it back to Harry's bedroom before the boy woke up but it looked like Harry had gotten up early.

"I think we'll go now," Mr. Weasley said. "We're a bit early, but I think you'll be better off there than hanging around here."

"Okay," said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet. Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry their encouragement and good byes.

 _'Now what am I going to do?'_ thought Pride, seeing the group of wizards start to leave. Harry needed him to get through this trial.

Mr. Weasley walked out of the kitchen, followed closely by Harry. If he somehow get Harry to notice him…

Pride's container went limp.

 **/Wait!/**

Harry swiftly stopped at the doorway. Before his master could reply, Pride jumped back into his small container. He sized hold of Harry's shoe lace, working quickly to get out of slight in Harry's pant leg.

"Everything alright Harry?" said Lupin.

Harry put on a nervous smile. Because he truly had no idea what was going on and he had butterflies in his stomach. "Yeah… I guess I'll see you later then."

xXx

As Harry and Mr. Weasley's conversation about the muggle way of transport happened, Pride worked head way in getting up the inside of Harry's pant leg. The Homunculus took found it easier to climb using the cloth of the jeans than Harry's skin.

Apparently Mr. Weasley decided to use the subway tunnels to go to the Ministry. With Harry sitting down Pride managed to get to Harry's thigh. _'I can't stow away in his pocket with Harry out in the public.'_

With Harry being so exposed to the people around him, explicitly since they were in the subway train, Pride figured it best to keep out sight. So he slipped under the white cloth of Harry's underwear.

The Homunculus reached the seam connecting the cloth covering the thigh and Harry's never regions. He pulled himself up, then felt his center of gravity change when Harry stood up and started walking out of the subway station. Pride fell, sliding down a curve of the underwear. He rolled down, unable to stop himself.

He bounced a few times until he rolled into soft skin. Pride put a hand to his head. Shaking off his dizziness, he looked up. Above him he saw smooth skin. Some hair, as to be expected with teens, and two enormous sacks of flesh blocking his view.

Pride felt something drip on his head. He gave a sniff, he could smell sweat all around him. Standing up Pride swayed back and forth to Harry's steps. With his hand he reached out and gripped a wall of skin to steady himself.

Pride wondered to himself if he should attempt to contact Harry now. The hearing had to be coming up shortly.

"Gah!" yelled Pride, losing his balance and falling on his back. His head rested against the fat tissue against Harry's bottom. Mildly stunned at the sudden jerking movement.

More sweat coated him, and he oddly figured Harry must be either running extremely fast or very nervous. The shaking momently stopped. Then he felt his naked child sized body leave contact with Harry's underwear. For a spilt second Pride felt air born, then it all went to black when his head compressed against the boy's underwear and about a hundred pounds of weight.

xXx

Harry sat gingerly on the edge of the chair in the middle of the courtroom. Feeling rather sick at the constant gazes of the people in the bench above and feeling red hot liquid run against his bottom.

The plumb-colored robes of the wizards above him almost made Harry gulp. There were about fifty wizards and witches starring down their noses at him.

In the middle, standing on his own podium, similar to a Roman Emperor, was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Very well," said Fudge. "The accused being present — finally — let us begin. Are you ready?" he called down the row.

"Yes, sir," said an eager voice of Ron's older brother, Percy. Harry spotted the quill and parchment, and guessed Percy was the court reporter of this hearing.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August," said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, "into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley —"

"— Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who turned his head so fast he cricked his neck.

A hopeful feeling steeled in his gut at seeing Dumbledore. Harry and little to no experience in wizard court rooms. All he knew was from watching Muggle ones on TV and Harry haven't the faintest clue as to where the differences were drawn.

"Ah," said Fudge, who looked thoroughly disconcerted. "Dumbledore. Yes. You – er – got our – message that the time and – er – place of the hearing had been changed, then?"

Inwardly Harry saw through the lying man's teeth. By the sound of it he either wanted Dumbledore out of the way or Harry missing the trial. _'I call bullshit Fudge… stupid government.'_

"I must have missed it," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done."

The rest of the Wizengamot muttered to themselves, only being quieted down by Fudge.

Harry scowled at his charges read to him. They made it sound closer to already calling him guilty than a question. He nodded and said yes to the meaningless name and background checking.

Harry then felt an electric jolt run up his body. Another followed the first. Harry wondered if his heart was leaping at each question they fired off or if it was another reason. Fudge continued to make the point clear that he used magic knowingly in front of a Muggle. It irked him how Fudge looked pleased when he confessed yes. It's not like he could deny it. And again Harry cringed at feeling electricity shoot through him.

"You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?" asked a witch sitting to Fudge's left. Harry recognized her to be Madam Bones. Shocked by another jolt, Harry asked himself if the chair he sat on was spelled.

"Kind off…" said Harry. He never got around to using his Patronus with Pride defending him and his cousin.

"Excuse me dear?"

"I never got around to solidifying it – er – my first two attempts made vapor. By the third it came out as a…" Harry focused for a moment. How was he going to explain Pride's shadow abilities as a Patronus charm? "…centipede? I think?" Pride's serrated teeth kind of looked like centipede legs. It was close enough.

"Impressive," said Madam Bones. A small group of witches and wizards behind her agreed.

They all got to muttering again, and Harry still felt that shock. It was starting to get annoyingly hard to keep his face from cringing in front of already suspicious people.

"It's not a question of how impressive creating a close corporeal Patronus is," said Fudge in a booming voice. "In fact, it shows he tried experimenting _unsupervised_ , and in front of a Muggle for crying out loud!"

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's ego and nod at Fudge's words that goaded Harry into leaning forward.

"I did it because of the dementors!" he said loudly, before anyone could interrupt him again. A pause in the room happened. Madam Bones questioned him, her voice high of disbelief.

Harry, oddly enough for the next few minutes, managed to keep his voice neutral. It was not because of Fudge's remark at him being an attention grabbing lying. Or stating the little fact that Muggles couldn't see dementors, so he had to witnesses – meaning Harry was truly screwed. In fact, Harry all but grew emotionless while Fudge tried to accuse him of making up the story.

Harry sat on his chair in shock. A mask on his face to cover up his confused look. Harry wasn't stupid, he knew Pride had chose to remain hidden by staying in his pants. He didn't mind that at all because of everyone around him. And never got the chance to pull him out.

So when Pride mentally screamed at him to easy off the pressure Harry obliged, not knowing just sitting down was causing his Homunculus grief. Though what got him bewildered came after. During Fudge's scrutinizing, Harry felt a tug at Pride's shadows inside of him. He'd never felt them move very much, let alone feeling half of them move so quickly.

Harry grew pale very quickly. His face lost a lot of color. It bothered Fudge, must have, because he gave Harry a curious glance. "If the accused brings no witnesses, and by the look of young Mr. Potter he did not that far ahead, then your seemingly well-rehearsed story-"

"We do, in fact, have a witness to the presence of dementors in that alleyway," Dumbledore said, "other than Dudley Dursley, I mean."

Fudge's hot air left him. He slacked down into his chair, staring down at Dumbledore for a moment or two, then with the appearance of a man pulling himself back together, said, "We haven't got time to listen to more taradiddles, I'm afraid, Dumbledore. I want this dealt with quickly –"

"I may be wrong," said Dumbledore pleasantly, "but I am sure that under the Wizengamot Charter of Rights, the accused has the right to present witnesses for his or her case? Isn't that the policy of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones?" he continued, addressing the witch in the monocle.

"True," said Madam Bones. "Perfectly true."

"Oh, very well, very well," snapped Fudge. "Where is this person?"

"Sorry I'm late, happened to get loss on the way here," said a voice. Everyone turned, including Dumbledore, to the voice of a child entering through the double doors. He walked up to Dumbledore and Harry.

"Sorry I'm late Professor Dumbledore. Had a rough time getting through security without a wand," Pride scratched the back of his head, laughing off his nervousness – or faking it all like Harry thought. Pride's container stood at an average height for a ten year old.

Normally seeing him naked, Harry had no idea what Pride had a fancy for nice clothes, or suits for that matter. The short black hair and violet eyed boy wore a white dress shirt, topped with a black vest. At his waist were tan khaki shorts with dress shoes to match. He looked in every way as a rich muggle kid.

Dumbledore stood up and have Pride his chair, conjuring a second one for himself. Still though, Pride had come from out of the blue and Dumbledore managed to brush it off as if he intended it. Harry wondered what questions the headmaster had to all this. As if answering Harry's own thought, Dumbledore gave him a look that said, 'we'll talk later.'

"Ah, I happen to have one more witness. I brought her with me just, she's just outside the door." He conjured another chair for Mrs. Figg to sit while she entered through a different door.

"Full names?" said Fudge loudly, when Mrs. Figg had perched herself nervously on the very edge of her seat.

"Arabella Doreen Figg," said Mrs. Figg in her quavery voice.

"Selim P. Bradley," said Pride with a smile. Making up a name that sounded pleasing took little more than a second for him.

"And who exactly are you two?" said Fudge, in a bored and lofty voice.

Mrs. Figg started. "I'm a resident of Little Whinging, close to where Harry Potter lives."

"And I'm an orphan, but I'll be going to Hogwarts this year. Luckily I got put into the home program, and my current family are the Dursley's. They haven't adopted me, but I'm really excited they will because they were talking about it!" Pride got all excited at the end, with stars in his eyes.

Harry almost chocked at image of Vernon happy about adopting a child. It looked so wrong.

"We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging other than Harry Potter," said Madam Bones at once. "That situation has always been closely monitored, given . . . given past events."

"I'm a Squib," said Mrs. Figg. "So you wouldn't have me registered, would you?"

"A Squib, eh?" said Fudge, eyeing her suspiciously. "We'll be checking that. You'll leave details of your parentage with my assistant, Weasley. Incidentally, can Squibs see dementors?" he added, looking left and right along the bench where he sat.

"Yes, we can!" said Mrs. Figg indignantly.

Fudge looked back down at her, his eyebrows raised. "Very well," he said coolly. "What is your story?"

Mrs. Figg talked about the encounter quite well. She saw the cloaked monsters heading into the ally and attack the boys. Though Harry felt as though she downplayed the creepiness of a dementor. The rotting smell of them or how they make a rattling noise sucking in souls. Harry shuddered at the thought of them.

"I felt them. Everything went cold, and this was a very warm summer's night, mark you. And I felt . . . as though all happiness had gone from the world . . . and I remembered . . . dreadful things. . . ."

Her voice shook and died. Madam Bones' eyes widened slightly. Harry could see red marks under her eyebrow where the monocle had dug into it.

"What did the dementors do?" she asked, and Harry felt a rush of hope.

"They went for the boys," said Mrs. Figg, her voice stronger and more confident now, the pink flush ebbing away from her face. "One of them had fallen. The other was backing away, trying to repel the dementor. That was Harry. He tried twice and produced silver vapor. On the third attempt, he produced a Patronus, which charged down the first dementor and then, with his encouragement, chased away the second from his cousin. And that . . . that was what happened," Mrs. Figg finished, somewhat lamely.

Madam Bones looked down at Mrs. Figg in silence; Fudge was not looking at her at all, but fidgeting with his papers. Finally he raised his eyes and said, rather aggressively "That's what you saw, is it?"

"That was what happened," Mrs. Figg repeated. "Very well," said Fudge. "You may go."

Mrs. Figg cast a frightened look from Fudge to Dumbledore, then got up and shuffled off toward the door again. Harry heard it thud shut behind her. "Not a very convincing witness," said Fudge loftily. "Your turn boy."

Pride sat straighter, eyeing the minister. "I saw the monsters, d-dementors, going toward the ally. I was playing at the park, and not sure on what I really saw. I've known about my magic for a while, and when I stayed at Harry's house for a week I managed to sneak a book out of his room and read it. I learned about Hogwarts, and I'm hoping my letter will be coming before the school year starts."

"You haven't gotten your letter?" said Madam Bones.

Pride shook his head, eyes going to the floor. "I got dropped off at the orphanage, so I don't know my real birthday."

Madam Bones nodded and got back to the subject at hand. "Did you see two dementors?"

"Yes, flying in the sky."

"Did you feel any different?"

"I… I remembered the first family I went to. They weren't nice people if you broke the rules…" Pride stopped talking, staring intently at his shoes.

"I would remind everybody that the behavior of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of this boy's imagination, is not the subject of this hearing!" said Fudge. "We are here to examine Harry Potter's offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery!"

"Of course we are," said Dumbledore, "but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizards, or Muggles present at the time of the —"

"Laws can be changed," said Fudge savagely.

"Of course they can," said Dumbledore, inclining his head. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

Then it grew quite with whispers passed between those up above.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" said Madam Bones's booming voice.

Harry's head jerked upward. There were hands in the air, many of them . . . more than half! Breathing very fast, he tried to count, but before he could finish Madam Bones had said, "And those in favor of conviction?"

Fudge raised his hand; so did half a dozen others, including the witch on his right and the heavily mustached wizard and the frizzyhaired witch in the second row. Fudge glanced around at them all, looking as though there was something large stuck in his throat, then lowered his own hand. He took two deep breaths and then said, in a voice distorted by suppressed rage, "Very well, very well . . . cleared of all charges."

A bang of his gabble brought Harry glee. He was finally off the hook. He looked to his left at the headmaster, hoping to catch a word in. But Pride had already beaten him to it. Dumbledore took his leave out the dungeon-esk court room, Pride licking his heels. Harry, seeing no real reason to stay, ran to catch up.

"A moment of your time Professor Dumbledore?" Harry heard Pride call. "I believe – to your benefit – we discuss terms… of say… my enrollment, hm?"

Dumbledore halted in his steps. He turned around, looking at the ten year old with twinkling eyes. "Whatever do you mean my boy?"

"We both know, I am much… _more_ than your average kid. I knew about this hearing didn't I? And I know all those magical items your trying to find; a clue hunt to track down things left over by Voldemort's glory days."

For the first time in Harry's life he saw the old headmaster narrow his eyes. Blue met violet.

"And why would you need me to enroll you into Hogwarts?"

Pride smirked. "Let's say you won't find my name on anything official. I'm fresh off the press, and willing to help."

"Consider yourself a first year student, Mr. Bradley."

And without looking once at Harry, he swept away from the two of them.

xXx

Harry glanced up and down the empty hallway. Nobody was around him currently, and he had yet to see Mr. Weasley. He had Pride's wrist tight in his grip.

"What the hell, Pride!"

His Homunculus rolled his eyes. "I decided the trial needed a witness. A few sad stories here, great acting there, and I had them in my fist. Though bringing Mrs. Figg might was a good plan on Dumbledore's part, just not as good as mine," he mused to himself.

Harry shook his head. "No – well yes that – but I'm talking about enrolling into Hogwarts. Are you sure letting the headmaster know about you is a good idea?"

"Not trusting him lately?"

Harry eyed him. "We both don't trust him. He's been on my bad side all summer."

Pride grasped Harry's hand softly. "And I understand that, but this is war. At some point I'd be exposed, it's better to make connections and plays now. We'll keep our other secrets. For now we need to stick to my story."

"Oh, okay. Hey, how'd you get to normal? And the clothes?"

Pride reached into the pocket of his shorts. "Felt that odd sensation during the hearing? That was me using my shadows to make my container bigger. I swallowed this body, then puked it back up outside the court room. I pretty much took half of my shadows from your body and moved them to this one." He pulled out Harry's wand. "And with energy from my jewel it made transfiguring these clothes easy."

Harry took back his wand. "Come on, let's find Mr. Weasley and head back." He moved to leave. "I guess you can stay normal now that Dumbledore knows about you…"

Harry didn't see Pride's expression. He also kept his own hidden. He missed holding the formally naked boy in his hands already.

* * *

 **I don't own FMAB or Harry Potter of course.**

 **Thank you guys for reviewing, favoring, and following. As you can see I edited Pride's name to Selim Bradley, because you guys had a problem with the old one - witch was kinda stupid after I thought about it.**

 **Thoughts? Suggestions? Put it down below, let me know.**


	4. Pink and Longnails

**If you haven't gone back to read chapter three just know I took you guys' thoughts into accounts and changed Pride's name to Selim Bradley. Okay, so I got this chapter done in one whole day, one very rainy day, and so it's not 100% checked for mistakes. See any point them out, please ;)**

 **Yes I don't own FMAB or Harry Potter. Yes, I should be studying for Finals but I'm lazy. Yes, I'm getting A's (YEA!), so I really have nothing to worry about, but still... uh... Finals... :/**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

Pride sat on the wooden chair surrounding a large dining table. He looks about the room, feeling eyes on him that he doesn't want. Members of the Order stand across from him. Their piercing gazes trying to borrow into his soul. Inwardly he humors himself. Should any magic actually exist to do that the caster would surly see dozens of tormented souls instead of just one. He feels not the bit upset at being forced into this chair. They want to interrogate him – overlooking his appearance in age – and find out just why he showed up with their savior and could see a base that is under high levels of protection.

"I don't think it's necessary to do this," squeaked Harry. The focused gazes of Made-Eye and Lupin made him feel queasy. Sirius met his emerald gaze, but refused to back down.

"When you came back I had hoped to congratulate you Potter, but now I'm sorry to say this has to be the most stupid thing you've done boy! Giving the location of the Order's base to this kid!" shouted Made-Eye, his magical eye swirling between the two of them. "And how'd you tell him anyway? Only Dumbledore's notes makes Twelve Grimmauld Place visible."

"Um…"

"Professor Dumbledore let me look at the note when we talked," said Pride, a shining smile of his face.

That got some raised eyebrows. "And for what reason did he show you this note?" asked a skeptical Lupin. Harry couldn't fault the man for being protective of the Order, but there were Hogwarts students privy to this information so why was Pride knowing such a shocker?

Harry looked over to Pride. His Homunculus played the nice innocent child really well. Just like the trial Pride knew how to act and say the right things to come into their favor. Harry wondered of Pride had taken that trait from him because under the gaze of Mad-Eye he wanted to fold.

"I was a witness to Harry's trial. And the headmaster thought it best I'm protected now that I'm seen as one of Harry's friends."

That seemed to do the trick. Mad-Eye and Lupin laid off, Sirius nodded approvingly in Harry's new friend, and Mrs. Weasley rushed over. "Oh sweaty you must be famished after today. Here, I'll get some sandwiches made in a gif."

"Thanks!" said Pride and Harry. Tough Harry knew Pride was faking it. They both ate, and Harry wondered if Pride even liked the food as he doesn't need to eat.

"So…" started Sirius. "…what's your name Harry's friend?" Harry's godfather grinned a little and sat beside his godson.

"Selim P. Bradley. I'm going to be a first year. Though I haven't gotten a wand yet, Harry said I can use his old books and robes."

Harry nodded to Pride's questioning glance. The boy will have to go without him though. With him having to be under protection they won't risk taking him with for a wand.

"Tomorrow my wife can take you," said her husband. Mrs. Weasley nodded, smiling with all her motherly love. Harry had the sinking suspension Pride's good behavior was ranking him high on her list. After eating she showed Harry and Pride upstairs, pointing out a spare bed now in Harry's and Ron's room. Tonks must have set one up while they were talking. Harry mentally noted he should say thanks in the morning.

"Oh my gosh Harry you got off!"

"HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OFF!" sang both the twins. Harry enjoyed their laughs. All of them supported him and knew he was getting off clean.

* * *

Over the next few days Pride played his part very well. The twins liked to prank him more for some reason – Harry suspected Pride acted like Percy – and Ginny welcomed him into the house. Ron, put up a good show of welcoming Pride, even asked to play wizard chess, however, he started to get moodier after he lost to the boy. Ron started to look between Harry and Pride with a calculating gaze, and it didn't help that Pride loved to point out his skills victory.

Now if only Harry could figure out his godfather's recent mood.

Pride was off with Mrs. Weasley getting a wand. It cleared up the house of a snoopy mother to talk to Hermione in private.

"I noticed Sirius being a total shut in, he walks around extremely happy then takes one look at me and goes off somewhere."

"He just really wanted you to stay with him. But you belong at Hogwarts, Harry."

"So what's with the bipolar stuff?"

"Oh, I guess we forgot to mention the good news with Selim being here and all," said Ron, smirking even though there were all tasked to clean the upstairs toilets. It must be some good news for Ron to be upbeat. "Kreacher died a few days ago. Isn't that great!"

"Ron! We should be paying our respects to him. He had a hard life," said Hermione sadly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "He got his wish, being hung with all the other dead elves like he wanted."

* * *

A few days later the house became a bustle of activity with many order members stopping bye for the last days of break. With the announcement of Ron and Hermione making prefect his red haired mate seemed to skyrocket. Ron was rhapsodizing about the new broom he got as a reward for making it to everybody in hearing distance.

Pride stuck close to Harry as a sort of body guard during the whole event.

"It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures. . . ."

Pride and Harry passed Hermione going into a speech with Lupin about elf rights. After they passed Pride leaned closer. "Oh I don't know about that. I think a certain creature is better…"

Harry snorted. Of course Pride was talking about himself. He gave his servant a pat on the back and they both slid into the direction of Fred and George, who were huddled in a corner with Mundungus.

The twin were hashing out a deal with the con man for Venomous Tentacula seeds. "Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?" said Fred.

Mundungus was adamant on twice the amount. "You know, Moody could have his eye on you," Pride pointed out.

"Good point, that," he grunted. "All right, lads, ten it is, if you'll take 'em quick."

"Cheers, Harry! Thanks Selim!" said Fred delightedly, when Mundungus had emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands and scuttled off toward the food. "We'd better get these upstairs…"

How would their parents take it that Harry was funding their joke shop, a career Mrs. Weasley clearly thought to be unsuitable?

Standing where the twins and left them with nothing but a guilty weight in the pit of his stomach for company, Harry felt a smaller hand grip his. "Hey, their doing a great job by the looks of it. If their parents don't agree with their life choices then it's not your problem. Investing in them is a business decision not a personal one."

Harry felt a little better.

"Selim, come over here would ya?" asked Tonks.

Tonks dragged Pride with her to sit down together. Harry didn't mind, his Homunculus needed the social experience.

Moody waved Harry down. "Look here Potter, got a photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix."

* * *

Pride felt that the pink haired human was a little too thrilled. She dragged him over to sit between her and Ron.

"… the handle's made of Spanish oak with anti-jinx varnish and in-build vibration control," Ron said to Tonks even though she had left to fetch Pride.

Ron kept up a proud voice talking about his broom. He never stopped ogling it. Pride figured Tonks dragged him into this conversation to block out Ron's voice.

"That's quite the broom Ron."

Hearing Pride's voice the red head looked up. "When did you get here?"

Pride shrugged. "Tonks wanted me to sit down with her."

"I figured we never really got to get to know you."

Tonks gave him a 'go on' look. Pride smiled shyly. With Ron becoming put off with him after beating him in chess and Tonks being an Order member; Pride carefully chose his words. "Well… I-I guess my favorite color is red. And I like Muggle stuff."

"Oh, really?" she said.

"Yeah, I guess – um – TV and movies. And I having a liking to Muggle fiction."

By Ron's new interest in his food he managed to bore the wizard with Muggle talk. But Tonks noticed and decided to change the subject.

"I heard you went out and got a new wand?" she inquired.

Pride smiled softly. This was a subject he himself wanted to talk about. "Yeah. Cherry Oak, Dragon heartstring, about ten inches." He pulled the wand out of his pocket. The reddish wood glowed and Pride loved how it zigzagged in the middle. It was a crop above the rest in his eyes.

"I went through six before this one shot out black sparks." Pride pocked his wand after the two each had a glance.

The conversation move on to what to expect at the school. Tonks gave him very good pointers on which paintings to ask for directions and a layout of Hogwarts in general.

Tonks hummed, looking at Pride with a curious squint. It went on for a solid minute, and her hair had changed colors enough times she did a full rainbow before Pride had enough.

"What?" He tried to keep his voice natural as possible.

"Er… what house do you think you'll get in? I'm imaging Ravenclaw."

Ron swallowed his chicken. "Nah, have to be Gryffindor. Takes bravery to live in this place."

"No, Selim's smart. He's Raven for sure."

"He's hanging with us lions, he's braver because of it."

Pride coughed. "Hufflepuff. I'll be a terrifying little honey badger in there."

Ron and Tonks felt a shudder down their spines. Then all conversion dropped with a scream from upstairs.

* * *

Pride was furious that Tonks kept him in the kitchen until everything died down. He had to learn what happen from Harry. Poor Mrs. Weasley, got attacked by a boggart. It sadden his heart to hear it, but he hoped the woman grew stronger from it. She seemed to be the only one Pride could stand out of the adults.

"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs. Weasley bellowed. Yeah, she controlled the others in a way Pride could respect.

Her son, a mother fearing boy, already dressed and rushed down with his trunk dragging behind him.

"Come on Pride we need to hurry," stressed Harry. He got dressed quickly and started helping the ten year old boy pack.

"It'll be more time efficient if I just shrink and ride along with you. I can swallow my truck and bring it back up later."

Harry finished latching both their trunks. "You have to be normal sized around other people. Everybody knows you're going to Hogwarts and you missing will cause a panic. I can sneak you in my bed at school, but we need to diverse a plan first."

Pride nodded as Hermione came hurrying into the room. "Ready you two?"

"Up, let's go." Harry, Hermione, and Pride set off downstairs.

Mrs. Black's portrait was howling with rage but nobody bothered closing the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again anyway.

"Harry, you're to come with me and Tonks," shouted Mrs. Weasley over the repeated screeches of "MUDBLOODS ! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!"

"Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage. . . . Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"

A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harry's side as Harry clambered over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley. "Oh honestly . . ." said Mrs. Weasley despairingly, "well, on your own head be it!" She wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight.

Everyone piled out the door. Hermione and Ron followed with Mad-Eye shortly behind. In the constant scampering to leave, Pride let himself be shoved into a corner. With nobody left in the house he stepped out the dark corner of the hall.

"Creatures of dirt? Now is that anyway to treat your betters?"

Pride's violet eyes glared into the painting of Mrs. Black. He stepped closer, a cold smile gracing his lips.

"YOU KNOW NOTHING FILTH!"

" _Cruico_."

"AHHHHHHH!"

Prided licked his lips at her sweet screams. This harlot knew nothing. She raged, and yelled, and cussed, but she had no purpose. Such a shame destroying her painting will bring up to many questions. "Now then, **how about you learn to respect me,"** Pride's voice echoed as multiple mouths and ruby red eyes came to life in the hallway.

* * *

"Wait up for me!" Pride yelled, running up to the group. They had already gotten ahead of him by a whole block.

"'Bout time Selim," said Tonks, her voice came out of an elderly woman. Her tightly curled gray hair helped her look the part.

"Wow! So cool!"

Tonks laughed at Pride's reaction. She thought Selim would get a kick out of her morphing magic.

It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross by foot and by the end Pride had decided to use Sirius as a horse. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier until the others arrived.

"Nice Dog, Harry!" called a tall boy with dreadlocks.

"Thanks, Lee," said Harry, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail and Pride gave a cheerful wave.

"Well, look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all around. He reached Harry and Selim last. "Be carful, Harry. Selim, I hope you find Hogwarts to your liking. Good luck."

A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train.

After final goodbyes, Harry, Ginny, and Selim found a nice compartment with Neville and Luna Lovegood. Personally, Harry and never met the girl. She had dirty-blond hair – waist length – and a distinct air of dizziness mixed with calm boredom.

"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," said Luna dreamily, though her way of constant staring at Harry felt a tad uncalled for. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she added.

"I know I am," said Harry. From what she was reading, _The Quibbler_ , Harry hoped the wizard magazine didn't put him the spot light or made fun of him.

Neville chuckled and Pride scanned the room from his spot by the window. Harry thought his servant needed to relax.

Luna turned her pale eyes upon Neville and Pride. "And I don't you who you two are."

"I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly.

"No you're not," said Ginny sharply. "Neville Longbottom – Selim Bradley, first year – Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

Harry noticed Pride remained silent through the next hour of the train ride. He didn't even flinch at Neville's exploding plant, and Harry envied the boy's evading skills. Though having above human reflexes let him be super aware of his surroundings.

Soon enough Ron and Hermione showed up. His friends talked and giggled around him, and Malfoy came over at one point to rub it in their faces that he mane prefect. Pride kept a steady gaze outside, after the snobbish snake left. Harry felt bad for him. Keeping up appearances had to be stressful and with his arrogant way of thinking; Harry pitied him.

The train pulled to a halt and Harry made sure to stand behind Pride as they stepped outside. "Head over with the other first years. I'll see you later alright?" He squeezed Pride's shoulder, getting a nod. Pride left to follow the other first years.

* * *

Beside Professor McGonagall stood an old wooden stool with an even older pointed hat. The older humans sitting at the tables looked on to watch the shorting. Some of the children around him were pale faced. A taller boy next to him trembled. Pride shared none of the similar feelings. He knew which house he wanted and belonged in.

Loyalty drove him. And the house of badgers needed a new honey badger to sort out the weak. The rip in the hat begun to move. It started seeing much to his surprise. Again he muttered how silly these wizards were.

His time to sit on the stool came up quickly. With only two other children ahead of him to show him how the ceremony works, Pride frowned. He wanted to get a good read on his fellow first years before being snatched away to a table. Oh well, his last name, Bradley, happened to be before forty others. He'll try and snatch up any worthy candidates among his house. Better to have followers who are loyal than fool hardy, scheming, or to smart for their own good.

The aged witch placed the Sorting Hat upon his head.

 _'My, my… your head's brimming with souls boy.'_

 _'Yes it is,' he deadpanned. 'Now place me in Hufflepuff."_

 _'Aw, yes I see you deeply wish to integrate yourself in the least suspecting house. However, destroying a piece of Tom Riddle, not telling your master about it, killing a house-elf, staying in the shadows to torture a painting for a mere insult, and finally creating an facade of an orphan boy that happens to be friends to Harry Potter; now tell me those aren't the actions of a subtle manipulator.'_

 _'I…"_ Pride stuttered, mentally going through each memory to find a reason for the Sorting Hat to not place him amongst the Slytherins. _'Did I not show loyalty in each case?'_

 _'Hm?'_ muttered the hat. _'Yes-'_

 _'Then you have to put me in Hufflepuff. I destroyed Voldemort's locket because it was a threat to Harry. I killed Kreature because he knew too much. I saved Harry from be trialed unjustly. I made sure Mrs. Black no longer utters an insult to my master's back. I saved him from a dark lord and I will continue to do so! How is being a servant to the Boy-Who-Lived not show loyalty? I submit myself willingly to him!'_

 _'That is not loyalty… rather endearment,' spoke the Sorting Hat in a still voice. 'Madam Hufflepuff, bless her heart, always wished for a day a student proved to be more than a follower. Pride, I see that you taking action to shield the one you love. No matter the cause or risk you succeed in proving yourself to Potter. In Slytherin you'd do great, but like your master it's your choice to change who you are. I wish you luck in –'_

" – HUFFLEPUFF!"

Pride got off the stool and found a seat among his house mates. He caught the gaze of Harry and gave him victorious smile. He ignored the speech of the headmaster and kept up his appearance by eating a small plate of food. He mingled in idle chit chat with other first years in the house and even asked questions to older ones about classes.

Running deep into thought about the coming year, Pride missed the quiet shock of many students. He only looked up from his food and thoughts of sneaking into Harry's bed when a disgusted vibe filled the air.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" The woman speaking stood in behind the staff table. Her sweet tones accompanying her words held no favors by the looks of his fellow students. With his advanced hearing he noted the giggles and whispered dislike. The teacher cleared her throat _("Hem, hem"_ ), but a subtle change in tone from sweet to businesslike had Pride's interest.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked hawk like, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little "Hem, hem" and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . ."

Pride listened carefully to each word she spoke. In the back of his mind he registered how dangerous this woman's presence was. She worked on behalf of the Ministry – a government directly opposed to dark beings such as himself – and her teacher status meant she controlled more than the parameters of their learning. She has no room to adjust her teaching methods. She's going to have to follow the Ministry's direct orders, and can't change her method to adjust to the old ways of how the school ran before. Essentially, Pride figured her class will be drying than the Sahara.

". . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

Yeah, her class sounded unimaginative already.

Pride tuned into what Harry and his friends thought about her speech. Hermione was thinking along the same lines as him. From what he could tell from their conversation, she sounded worried, and Pride gathered so did Harry.

Dumbledore announced the end of the feast and ordered the prefects to lead their classmates to the dorms. The first year followed his fellow badgers to their dorm. They moved down a flight of moving stairs Harry had spoken of and down a hallway. Pride smelled food coming from a pair of gigantic doors and figured it to be where the kitchen was located.

"Okay first years lend an ear. To get inside you just tap the barrel two from the bottom and middle of the second row. Tap it to the thrice while saying our founder's name, Helga Hufflepuff."

The boy prefect showed them how and mentioned a security measure to drench an intruder in vinegar if they got the passcode wrong.

Pride was shown to his room with four other boys: Lance Strong, Alex Russo, Nathen Longnail, and Jeremiah Gutwald.

Pride payed them no mind and dressed into a pair of old pajamas Harry packed for him. The others got right to bed after a few hours of talking. Pried decided on not going in, they weren't worth his time talking about childish things.

* * *

"Hi, Selim is it?"

Prided nodded slightly to his fellow housemate.

"My name's Nathen Longnail – er – nice to meet yah," said the boy quickly. Pried met his brown eyes and gave a small smile. His roommate stood beside him on their way to the Great Hall. The other three roommates teamed up on the boy last night in a huge pillow fight. Pride didn't join in and with the other three gaining up on Nathen the blond must've decided to stick with the quite ten year old.

It was after they both received their class schedules that Prided found out he'll be spending most of the year with Nathen. Both had Transfiguration, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts before lunch. Afterwards Pride had History of Magic, a class Harry mentioned as very boring and sleep inducing, then Charms.

Pride left the Great Hall shortly after breakfast. He had no time to spare to converse with his housemates when he wanted to be prepared for his Transfiguration class. Nathen kept up pace and started rambling his nervousness.

Many of his classes tended to be the same introductions Harry spoke about. He succeeded in transfiguring a match into a needle, on his first try. Professor McGonagall congregated him, and Nathen had asked for help after he put his wand away.

The trend of his classes closely followed the same tune as Harry's first year. Using energy from his stone, Pride suspected he'd never not get a transfiguration to work. And Potions with Professor Snape offered Pride his own understanding of Harry's most hated teacher. However, unlike in Harry's class the man showed no favoritism toward the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs. He guessed the problems only start happening when Harry's class is around.

"Professor Snape really likes to drawl and on doesn't he. He's just kept on talking about how we're all stupid and need to learn the fine art of potion making. I tell you Selim, he has a stick up his…"

When the two entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at he teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top her head.

The class was quite as the two entered the room with other first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Pride made sure to elbow Nathen in the gut to shut him up and took their seats towards front.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A majority of the class – all first years – enthusiastically replied back.

"Thank you," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "Wands away and quills out, please."

Nathen and other first years looked a tad disappointed about that. So far their classes had been heavy wand using. Even Pride's eye twitched when he figured this class was going to be a lot of note taking.

"A return to basic principles?" mouthed Pride, greatly confused on the idea of returning to basic concepts if this was his first class. Did that mean this class started somewhere in the middle of their book normally? Or did previous teachers have first years jump around chapters?

"With you all beginning your education here at Hogwarts, you get to be the first to experience correct, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic. Now copy down the following, please."

 _Course aims: Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use._

"Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkard?"

They whole class said yes, clearly excited about learning magic.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge, looking rather pleased with the happy faces around the room. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."

The class obliged eagerly. Noise in the room stood to a halt. Several minutes passed by, filling the classroom with nothing but the sound of flipping pages. Next to him, Nathen read slightingly, but looked ready to be on the verge of the yawn. Pride himself was already on to reading the second chapter. He took the liberally of not needing sleep and spent last night reading the first. Pride scanned the room, seeing many of the first years completely entrapped in the magical book or on the verge of boredom. Pride's guess about Umbridge's teaching skills sang true.

Nathen whispered next to him. "God this thing is a bore. No color, no images of famous spells in action, or even side paragraphs about the inventors." He flipped through the rest of the book. "My mom's college level Physics text book is more interesting to read than this."

By his last name and clear Muggle knowledge Nathen had to be half-blood.

Pride nodded, grimacing along with now a good chunk of his class. Pride rose his hand, trying to catch Professor Umbridge's eye in the most respectable and composed way he could.

With nearly half the class now doodling, daydreaming, or deciding to focus on something else entirely, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide she could no longer ignore his hand that had been in the air for a good five minutes already.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked.

"After reading chapter one, and revaluing your course aims I believe I don't understand something."

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is –?"

"Selim Bradley," said Selim.

"Well, Mr. Bradley, I think the course aims are perfectly clear. Perhaps you need to read them over again?" said Professor Umbridge in a tired tone, perhaps this wasn't the first time today she had then question.

"I have, and nowhere does it say about using defensive spells. And the book shows us no example of said spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

" _Using_ defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated, her eyes narrowed. "In any case there will be no need for you to use a defensive spell here," she paused, eyeing Pride with a newfound annoyance. "Have any of the older students told you ask that Mr. Bradley? Has either Granger or Potter spoken to you?"

Their teacher nearly spat his master's name. He narrowed his eyes, his master had done something stupid before this class; he felt it in his gut.

"No mam, I haven't talked to either of them since last night on the train. It's just… if the text book does not give an example for us to visualize, then how are we supposed to know how to use the spell correctly. Surly our magic works like a muscle, if we forgo practice we won't get better."

Professor Umbridge smiled, her skin tightening at the corners of her lips. Someone needed to tell her forced smiles make winkles. "This is a risk-free way, secure, and approved by our government."

"Yes, but this year we all might be attacked," said Pride.

"So you _have_ been speaking with Potter! Ten points from Hufflepuff for lying."

Nathen raised his hand, red faced but giving Pride a supportive look. "Nathen Longnails, mam, and Selim's telling the truth, I've been with him since breakfast."

"Um… Well I can assure you Mr. Bradley no one will be attacked this year. And any rumors of You-Know-Who are all delusions of a Triwizard champion wanting to stay in the spot light."

"I'm not saying anything about _Voldemort_."

A Ravenclaw in the back screamed. Multiple first years looked dizzy, and one fainted – the latter probably a pureblood. Pride glanced at Nathen next to him. His respect for the boy rose at not seeing a change from frustration over the text book.

"Another ten points from hour house, Mr. Bradley."

The class stayed silent. "Then _what_ are you suggesting hm?" asked their teacher in a stressed voice.

"A year ago a group in masks attacked an international event. A year before that, a certain man escaped a high security cell, and was known as an upper Death Eater. Now Sirius Black might be able to find some old buddies and go on a rampage, but he is not the point I'm making. No, it doesn't matter if Voldemort is back or not. It doesn't matter what Potter or Dumbledore say. Because the name Voldemort is only that… a name. We know a man under that name died many years ago at a peak of such power it nearly toppled the government. So, it may not be the same man, or Black, but somebody is gathering forces. We shouldn't care who's leading them, but we should understand they are a threat. Death Eaters, or not, these dark wizards have attacked us once now, and I don't want to be powerless if they decide to start another battle similar to the last war."

Professor Umbridge's face was quite blank. For a second Pride thought his rant overloaded her. Then, looking tired, angry, and annoyed, she dismissed class twenty minutes early.

Everybody silently left. Nathen ran up to him, a tad wide eyed and shocked. "Dude, how'd you get away with no detention? Even talking about Voldemort freaked out most of the class."

Pride smirked, his violet eyes gleaming. "I stayed calm, she can't punish someone if their opinion is said in a respectable manner. I may not have fixed the class rules, but I think every person in that classroom knows I was speaking the truth."


	5. Servant and Master

**I don't own anything...**

Master and Servant

Pride cried out in surprise as Harry's foot came down close to his naked body. "Well I'm headed off to bed…. Awwww…Thanks for the help Sirius." Harry bellowed with a tired sigh as he moved to get up. Harry's second sock covered foot slapped against the floor with such intensity that the homunculus couldn't keep his balance. After successfully standing back up, Pride ducked his head underneath Harry's sweeping foot.

"Starting a group to practice spells? And he didn't tell _me_ about it." Pride snapped over the quieting booms of his master's steps just a few feet away. The purple eyed servant watched the titan walk away to his bed upstairs. "You could've at least spoke to me about all this Harry… I would've supported you better than your Godfather who's miles away."

Feeling the wrench of sadness is his gut Pride started following his giant master to his room. The sight of the big, very high, curved stair steps made his hurt feelings turn into a loud groan. It'd take forever to climb them.

Pride placed a mental hand on his shadows and pulled. "Now that's better." With a satisfied smirk he ran up the stairs at his normal size. He only stopped once he stood in front of the door leading to his master's room. He quickly released his grip on his powers, letting them move out of his body and refill the void inside Harry's body.

Standing at the height of a pea again Pride slid under the old oak door. Greeting him were several fuzzy beds in the distance and the trucks sitting beside them. "Which bed is Harry's?" The question was solved quickly for the shrunken homunculus.

Harry's shiny smooth chest stood out amongst the sleeping forms of his other roommates. Ron and the others had already retired for the night under their blankets. For Harry it meant he could change without having to shut his curtains. He slipped out of his jeans, leaving only his tiny whites to cover – in Pride's opinion – his impressive manhood.

He slid onto his bed leaving his blankets underneath him. Harry was still feeling hot and sweaty from sitting by the fire place all night. He blamed Sirius for taking too long to pop up.

"I have to admit… master's got some good looking jewels," Pride muttered under his breath. The way the cloth tightly cupped them made his heart flutter unexpectedly. Within thirty minutes he had made it to his master's bed. During his brisk walk Pride's mind lingered on what he heard Sirius and his master talk about: the forming of a group to practice spells that Umbridge outlawed using and most importantly where to hold these meetings. ' _Master is so overworked. He worries for his classmates all the time, when he shouldn't have to carry this pressure all alone. Yet he does.'_ The young artificial ten-year-old brought a finger under his chin. _'I feel so useless. I can offer no help… or could I…'_

Forming an idea, Pride quickly pulled on his shadows for a second time. He picked up Harry's wand and with a jabbing motion cast the Silence Charm at four the corners of the bed. Pride really needed to have a chat with Harry about all this stress the teen was going through.

 **(Below is only 18+ please.)**

He sat the wand back down on the nightstand crawled on the bed. He positioned himself over his master; each knee adjacent to the teen's hips, and placed his small hand over Harry's lips. His master woke suddenly, jerking forward. Pride pushed the green eyed teen back down with his above human strength. "I've heard you've been really busy master. Allow me to help you relax." Without another word Pride griped the rim of Harry's underwear and slid them down to his ankles. Pride griped the teen's dick and thumbed along its top.

"P-Pride… s-stop… ooooooh…" Hearing his master's mown Pride upped the action. The throbbing dick inched out and straitened in Pride's hand. Deciding to please his master more Pride started shrinking. He ended at the size of a pea, worshipping a now towering structure of blood and flesh. His miniscule arms hugged, squeezed, and massaged the base of Harry's member. Pride used his tongue on the skin, licking the shaft like a child tastes a sucker. In his mouth Prided tasted the sweet salt of sweat. Soon he just grinded his nude body against his master's now fully erect prick; sending pulses of pleasure to Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived clenched his teeth in delight. His penis twitched and shook, even seeing Hermione or Cho Chang at the Yule Ball never got this type of reaction. The giant's toes curled as his fingers clenched the warm blankets. He pushed away whispered thoughts of wrongness to the back of his mind as he felt his penis throbbing. Tonight was an unexpected evening of pleasure and he wanted to enjoy more of. "Make it better my… Pride!" A deep moan escaped his mouth, and Harry realized he couldn't hear anything other than his own pleasured voice, meaning that Pride had used that Silence Charm to block out his voice to his roommates and vice versa. Otherwise Ron's snoring would have made this less kinky.

Looking down at his crotch, Harry found the reason for his sudden pleasure spike. The tiny homunculus had shimmied up his cock and was now sitting upon its purple head. His naked body grinding against it with tongue and all. Harry, now blushing, wondered if he should drop Cho Chang in favor of Pride.

"Gotta prove myself to master. Make master happy. Make master happy," chanted Pride. He spalled himself on the think mass of the cockhead. His chest barely covered the slit and his fingertips were just short of griping its sides. His mind flooded with the goal to please his master he massaged the rubbery texture of the cock head; trying to come up with new ideas.

His smelling of Harry's penis, his own master's tearful moans, and his own grinding; it was all turning him into the homunculus, Lust, with his horny animalish tendencies. "What to do? What to do?" The slowly turning homunculus roamed his soft hands around the inside edge of Harry's cockhead. With a sudden jolt from the tower of flesh, his tiny body slid forward, sliding his thinner member into the wet hole of the swollen mushroom top. Vision blurry from his own erotic pleasure Pride looked down at his own penis. "It's like slipping into a kiddy pool."

Harry's body shined a good layer of sweat. His green eyes taking in the starry night outside his window. His tiny slave and friend was really doing a fantastic job. His blankets were absorbing the sweat of his back and butt, creating a strong smelling B.O. that invaded his nostrils. Such a stench building up on his bed was bound to be noticed by his roommates in the morning. He'll have to say he had a nightmare again.

' _I'll make something up like always in my dream journal for class. Then tomorrow after Divination I'm asking Madam Pomfrey for healing lotion. Saying my injury is from straddling my broom will be a good excuse. After tonight I'm keeping this up with Pride until I feel relaxed again. Merlin knows I'm way too high strung these days.'_ Harry stopped all thought as another wave of bliss hit his brain. His cheeks got redder and he was forced to squeeze his eyes. _'Yeah, I'm not having sex with a girl in my life if Pride keeps this up. Heh, my first time having sex is with my own slave. Weird.'_

Then Harry screamed. Pleasure unparalleled to anything before overloaded his nerves. It dilated his pupils and caused him to dig into the blankets so much he ripped them again. Pride was humping his itty bitty tack of a member into the titan's sticky meatus. The ten-year-old was laying in the meatus of Harry's cockhead like he was floating in a bathtub. Except as Pride passed his cock in and out of Harry's the end of the urethra filled up with sweat that was rolling off the little guy. The ripping of cloth sounded as he thrusted upward uncontrollably. Loud and echoing moans filled the tiny space where no sound could escape. Harry fucked the air at a rate no boys his age ever got to. He did so multiple times, sending the unknowing Pride into the air; rolling and flipping until the homunculus landed butt first on Harry's pubic hair.

With one last moan filled push Harry ejaculated gallons of semen onto the air. The rain of seed oozed over Harry's chest and crotch. White-hot semen landed on the violet eyed boy. Harry's tower of a penis twitched as sperm ran down its sides like rivers. Pride smiled, wiping the sticky white goo off his own penis. He got Harry to have a much deserved night of pure bless.

The black-haired titan took deep breaths to calm himself. He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and vanished the mess of hot sperm. His manhood sagged between his legs; empty and sore from so much sperm passing through it. "Pride – er – thanks I guess… I really needed that."

"After learning about your study group and all the pressure Umbridge is putting on you… I thought what the hell." Pride took a deep breath and leaned against the base of Harry's bent penis, resting his head backward as he watched Harry.

"Can you do one more favor for me tonight?"

"Sure!"

Harry blushed, his cheeks turning a soft red of embarrassment. "You have really good hearing right?"

Prided nodded, a part of him pondering where this was going. He'd do it no matter what if Harry ordered him, but he was still curious.

"I want you to get normal first."

Pride did as ordered, filling his body with shadows until his nude body sat on Harry's exposed lap.

"Come here." Pride leaned forward. Harry wrapped his arm round Pride's shoulder and pushed him further. Suddenly the homunculus found his lips deeply connected to his master's perfect chops. Harry pulled off. "You're my homunculus, my slave, my servant, and my friend. That's your reward. Now head back to your dorm, we'll talk about where we're meeting up for the study group later." His whispered breath held so much importance Pride could only nod in surprise. The homunculus strolled out the boys' dormitories the same way he came in.

 **(END)**

xXx

After charms class, Harry could proudly say he pulled off the Silencing Charm before Hermione – thank you Pride. He met with his two best friends in a nosy overcrowded classroom; which, due to the down poor outside, is where many other students had decided to hang.

He sat with his two friends right before Angelina came struggling toward them through the groups of gossiping students.

"I've got permission!" she said. "To re-form the Quidditch team!"

" _Excellent!"_ said Ron and Harry together.

"Yeah," said Angelina, beaming. "I went to McGonagall and I think she might have appealed to Dumbledore – anyway, Umbridge had to gin in. Ha! So I want you down at the pitch at seven o'clock tonight, all right, because we've got to make up time, you realize we're only three weeks away from our first match?"

"If the weather doesn't let out that is," said Pride, sneaking up on Harry's right unannounced. Angelina gave them a 'see you later' look and vanished amongst the hordes of gossiping students. Harry felt a shudder go down his spine. Angelina was a no nonsense girl; a doer, and if it dropped a hundred gallons from the sky she'd still make them practice. Rick of hypothermia be dammed.

"Anything wrong Hermione?" She was gazing at the window, looking outside at the storm.

"Just thinking…" she said, still frowning at the shaking window.

"About…your guys' get together?" said Pride.

"Yes… wondering I guess… wait… how'd you know?" Hermione's gaze flickered to the first year, then zeroed in on Harry.

"He ought to know since he's my adopted brother… well nothing's sighed but it's beside the point."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other. " _Fine_." Harry felt as though he missed something.

"I was just wondering," Hermione said, her voice stronger now, "whether we're doing the right thing, starting this Defense Against the Dark Arts group."

"What!" said Harry and Ron together.

"Oh, this is rich!" said Pride.

"Hermione, it was your idea in the first place!" said Ron indignantly.

"I know," said Hermione, twisting her fingers together. "But after talking to Snuffles…"

"But he's all for it!" said Harry.

"And I don't see a problem with all this. I've been overhearing some seventh years doing the same in abandoned class rooms," said Pride.

"Really?" said Hermione, looking at Pride astonishingly. "Okay… but I'm still having trouble with trusting Snuffles judgment on this…"

Harry looked at her angrily. "So just because Sirius agrees with us you don't think we should do it anymore?"

"And Selim's got a point. Seventh years are doing it so why can't we?" Piped up Ron.

Hermione looked tense and rather miserable. Now staring at her own hands she said, "Do you honestly trust his judgment?"

"He saw nothing wrong with me and let my stay rather than sending me back to the orphanage." Harry looked at Pride. There was so much irony in that sentence it was almost laughable.

"You don't think he has become… sort of… reckless… since he's been cooped up in Grimmauld Place? You don't think he's… kind of… living through us?" Hermione reasoned.

"What d'you mean, 'living through us'?" Harry retorted. Sirius hasn't been all that reckless. He's been helping them out and giving them much needed information. If anyone was being reckless it'd be Pride. Running the halls at night; nude, tiny, alone, and then sneaking in to the Gryffindor dorms at night. Now that was reckless… though he'd never admit this out loud… and enjoyable.

"He's egging us on. I think he'd love to be forming secret defense societies right under Ministry's nose. He cooped up at his place so he thinks he can do that by giving us advice on what he would do."

Harry turned on his back to Hermione. He'd let her sort this out on her own. There's no convincing her when she so indecisive like this. Hopefully she'll steel her nerves by tomorrow. He walked out as the bell rung, his friends and Pride following him. Hermione bet her lip for the rest of the day.

xXx

It was warm and comfortable in his armchair before the fire, with the downpour still going strong outside it felt good to finally be dry again after that rain soaked Quidditch practice. Harry closed his eyes to take in the heat. Tonight wasn't the night Sirius could talk, but Harry stayed by the fire well past midnight. His head fell sideways…

He was walking once more along a windowless corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silence. As the door at the end of the passage loomed larger his heart beat fast with excitement… If he could only open it… enter beyond…

He stretched out his hand… His fingertips were inches from it…

"Harry Potter sir!"

Harry woke with a start. His eyes quickly pinned on one familiar green eyed house elf. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

His elf ears perked up. "Cleaning Gryffindor Tower, sir!"

"Oh, okay." Harry leaned back into his armchair. It was past three o'clock. He must have dozed off without realizing it. That corridor… what was he reaching for? His odd dream plagued his thoughts as Dobby started dusting around the room.

"Harry Potter does not seem happy," Dobby spoke, putting down an old duster and looking timidly at Harry. "Dobby heard him muttering in his sleep. Was Harry Potter having bad dreams?"

"Not really bad," said Harry. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Any idea what I was saying?"

The elf surveyed Harry for some sort of tale tell lie. Then he nodded. "Dobby thinks he heard sir Harry Potter mumble on about a Ministry department. Though Dobby is really sad he can't help more. Harry Potter set Dobby free and Dobby is much, much happier now…"

A department in the Ministry? Why in the hell was he dreaming about that god forsaken place? Maybe Umbridge was pissing him off more than he thought. Hopefully that strange door leads to the trial where he sees Umbridge taking the fall for all her misdeeds to Hogwarts' students. Yeah, that sounded about right. He bent down and picked up his text books that had fallen off his lap. His eyes caught the white scares from his detention with her. Maybe he should look up a law to see if her corporal punishment is legal. Then again, this is the wizarding world, the pure bloods probably still had paddles stashed in a closet.

"Hey Dobby, I've got a job for you."

"Name it, Harry Potter, sir!"

"That bitch – I mean Umbridge – isn't letting us practice our spells. So we might fail our O.W.L's. I don't want to fail, so can you find a place where say… twenty-eight – ish – people can practice. Without being discovered by any teachers?"

"Dobby believes he knows of a perfect spot, sir!"

Harry sat up straighter. "Go on."

"Dobby has heard tales of it by other house-elves. Called the Come and Go Room, or else as the Room of Requirement!"

"Why?"

"Because it only opens for the person who needs it at the time. Dobby himself as used it, sir, for when Winky has had too much to drink. He stores her in there until she sobers up."

"So, if you really needed a place to –" Harry's heart quickened when his memory of Pride and him last night flash to the forefront of his mind. "– say take a b-bath, i-in private, the room will fill with a bathtub?"

"Dobby expects so, sir," said Dobby, nodding earnestly. "It is truly a most amazing room, sir."

"Hmmm…" For a moment Harry wanted to rush to grab his Invisibility Cloak. But a voice, similar to Hermione's whispered in his ear: _reckless._ This needed carful planning, not sudden action, stunts like that get you in trouble. Like how he didn't keep his mouth shut; ending up with a permanent scar, instead of just biting his lip like what Hermione told him to do the first time, but no, he did it again, and now had a nasty scar on his hand as a reminder. "… Listen, can you just tell me exactly where this Room of Requirement is how to get in there?"

xXx

"Let's see, Ron said to meet up at the seventh floor. Now where is the man-sized vase I need to look out for?"

"Are you sure this is where we need to be, Selim? I don't want to get caught by Filch," said Nathen. The brown-haired and brown eyed fist year hurried along with him up the stairs to the supposed meeting spot. They were soon joined by Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Parvati, and Dean.

"Oh hi Selim, and…"

"Nathen Longnail. We got invited to this shindig by your brother, Ron."

"Well that's nice of him." She blinked in surprise. "He usually doesn't talk to first years…"

"Whoa," said Dean, staring around, impressed. "What is this place?"

Their meeting spot was spacious, no doubt about it. Nathen grew wide eyed along with the other students. Hundreds of books lined the wall in wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large blue silk cushions on the floor. And a set of shelves on the far end held many different instruments unfamiliar to the violet eyed homunculus.

"This is the Room of Requirement, it give you whatever you desire and…" Harry began to explain, but more people unfamiliar to Pride showed up. Eventually every single royal blue cushion was filled up, Harry went over to the door and turned the key, producing a satisfying click. The door locking was everyone's clue to shut up.

"Well," said Harry, slightly nervously. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've – er – obviously found it okay –"

"It's fantastic!" said Cho, – or at least that's what Pride thought her name was – and Nathen agreed alongside him with the others in the room. Hermione had given them all a quick rundown of how the room worked – truly Hogwarts had outdone itself.

Curious about the shelf of weird instruments, Pride followed over to Dean as he pointed at the shelf. "Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?"

"Dark Detectors," said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you – NO! Selim wait!"

Harry reached out to push his homunculus back. It was pointless. He'd already stepped within a foot of the shelf. Each Sneakoscope turned a pitch black color. What was once clear orbs, now sat blackened storm clouds entrapped in glass.

Nearly one full second ticked by before twenty seven wands pointed at Selim's back. The only ones not standing up with bewildered and shocked expressions were Nathen, Harry, and Pride himself.

The once calm atmosphere faded into a tense silence of gazing at the black-haired first year Hufflepuff.

"All those bloody Sneakoscopes went off –" said Zacharias Smith, though he sounded for fearful than surprised.

"– don't they mean a person practices dark magic?" said a shaking Angelina.

"I knew we shouldn't be trusted him mate!" Spoke Ron, his and Hermione's wands were already glowing with the stunning spell. They had more to protect than a simple study group.

"Now hold on! Sneakoscopes can be fooled! Put your wands down!" This was getting out of hand.

"He's gonna rat us out," said Cho at once, firmly believing ever world out of her own mouth. Harry stomach did a small flip, was she always this blindly self-driven?

Harry saw Hermione slowly walk forward. "If a single Sneakosocpe turned black then yeah…. But all of them…. Harry I know he's your adopted brother but…. You met him after the Dementor attack… he might've tricked you… Harry please step away from him."

At her words Harry noticed he'd moved to Pride's side unknowingly. "He won't rat us out…" He raised his hands in surrender. He gave a meaningful look at his two best friends. "… I promise."

"Troll crap! He set off twenty of those things!" Shouted one of the Creevey brothers.

"He'll tell Umbridge!" Yelled Ernie Macmillan.

"And we might all get yearlong detentions or worse!" Justine Finch-Fletchley's angry bark aggravated the others.

"He knows too much about Dumbledore, Harry…" Ginny said with a dreaded voice.

"THIS IS ALL GETTING OUT OF HAND! NOW SHUT UP YOU STUPID PRICKS!"

Everyone clenched their ears. Nathen removed his wand from his neck. "Selim is my friend. I've known him full this while semester and I trust him. He's quite, but he's no Dark wizard. Sure, he might not have a happy expression on his face all the time and he's so calm it's creepy, but he's a good person."

Pride's eyes widened. His roommate had that much faith in him? "Thanks Nathen."

Harry took a long deep breath. His nervous fidgeting dying down along with his classmates. Beside him Nathen's description of Pride was spot on, Pride never looked so calm. Everyone slowly dropped their wands. Then Smith opened his stupid mouth.

"We have proof right in front of us! Think about it! First year it was a teacher; second, a possessed book, Third, Sirius Black, Forth, an imposer, and this year's no different! If You-Know-Who had minions attack and fail with teachers two out of four times, then third's the charm. Because Selim Bradley is a Dark wizard working under You-Know-Who! It think… if teachers can't kill Harry Potter, then how about an innocent first year."

The rest of the room was very quiet.

"Selim?" Whispered Nathen.

"He popped up out of the blue –" Said Fred, raising his wand again.

"– and claimed to be adopted from the orphanage by your Muggle Aunt and Uncle…." George also pointed his wand. He hastily stood beside his twin, catching Harry's eye.

"… Dumbledore thinks you've been hit with the Imperious Curse. And all those Sneakoscopes are proof. Selim might've been able to fool one but not thirty. Hermione's right, he's got to be taken in to Dumbledore. We're sorry Harry."

" _Stupefy!"_

Harry watched in horror as four stunners flew at Pride. Two of them came from the twins, the others he from the crowd. _'I need to protect Pride, and prove his innocence,"_ he thought, and before he could push the first year a wall came up from the floor blocking the four jets of light. Then a new book appeared on the nearest row of books, glowing for all to see. Hermione was the closest, she picked it up and flipped through it to a single glowing page. By this point everyone was staring dumbfounded at her and her new glowing book.

"It says: _Under certain instances; such as a magical creature, a dark curse, or even a dark spell used, the Sneakoscope will turn a cloudy black. Should there be multiple instances, for example many at once, the case is that of a dark creature."_

Everyone was no staring at Pride. Harry gowned, apparently the Room of Requirement did help, but it made this a lot more completed. "All right fine, you got me, Selim's a magical creature, happy?" Harry spitted out angrily.

Getting a Stupefy to the face was not the answer he was expecting. Harry dropped to the floor.

Smith stepped forward. "Sorry Harry, we'll get that spell off you later. When you wake up you'll see the truth. Now then Selim, or whatever you are, You-Know-Who's lackey no doubt, we're taking you to the headmaster."

Another volley of Stunners from Smith, Fred, George, and Ron came at Pride. The homunculus merely waved his hand. Black, oozing shadows came from his feet, blocking the spells. He gritted his teeth. Everything, all his hard work just got bone sky high in a matter of ten minutes by paranoid teenagers.

"Get him before he attacks Harry!" Cho shouted.

Not liking his odds against over twenty wizards, all of which he didn't want to hurt, Pride wrapped his shadows around himself. He'd have to disappear quickly. With an opaque barrier around him he blocked their view of his rapidly shrinking body. He swallowed his clothes and wand with a giant mouth. Leaving no clue behind, and so people well suspect he Disapparated, he shrunk to his pea size form, still holding the opaque barrier. "They'll all be watching though…" he muttered. Having a regretting look Pride emptied his body of all power. He honestly felt like he lost his connection to his glorious master. He finally stopped when a pea would be of a many times larger boulder.

Leaving is soul in his tinnier body and nothing more, his connection severed to both his powers and Harry. The dome blocking his normal sized form dissipated, showing an empty black space.

By this point nobody was in the mood to practice. Not after the reveal of a dark creature manipulating Harry Potter.

Fred and George went off to inform Dumbledore of Selim's escape Hermione took charge and set the next meet up on Wednesday of next week. She let them all leave in threes and fours.

"That went unexpectedly. I guess Harry's scar hurting was because of Selim. Well, let's get him to Madam Pomphrey," said Hermione.


	6. Hagrid's Tale

**I don't known anything sadly... :(**

 **And I am sorry if there is some mistakes in this chapter. I am going to come back and fix the ones I see. You know, I REALLY need a Beta.**

 **Chapter 6:**

 **Hagrid's Tale**

Harry felt as though he was hit by a truck, rolled over twice, and then finally dumped at the hospital. What he came to find out was that it was just a stunner to the face. Madam Pomphrey had given him a stern talking to about practicing spells with his friends. She didn't seem too mad about it though, and Harry speculated she only thought he was preparing for his O.W.L's with Hermione and Ron. She even had a wake up potion at the ready. Making Harry wonder if she'd been through similar cases this year. ' _I guess Pride did say the seventh years were practicing as well.'_

At the thought of his homunculus Harry quickly rushed back to the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a tad early in the morning – the sun barley above the horizon – but he could care less. Hermione and Ron had some explaining to do. Harry was finding it nearly impossible to think of a respectable answer for his group's actions last night as he walked to Gryffindor Tower; but understandably tensions have been high. With Umbridge's unreasonable decrees as High Inquisitor, their Quidditch game coming up against the Slytherins, and O.W.L's this year; his peers were feeling a lot more overworked than normal. Harry understood, he too felt hassled, but the members of his little club never once offered to talk it out. Idiocy on a whole new level.

When he entered the common room he spotted his two best friends sitting on the couch waiting for him. Harry clenched his fists, _they were waiting for him like last night never happened!_

His anger fueled strides suddenly halted when a teary eyed Hermione hugged him. "I'm so _sorry_ , Harry! I…we… everything… got out of hand."

"Yeah," Ron said miserably, "we acted thicker than Crabb and Goyle."

The three sat down on the couch. Nobody spoke and Harry gazed at the fireplace for a solid five minutes. When he spoke his mouth was dry. "Where's Selim?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"We all thought he Disapparated. Couldn't see anything though. He put up some black shield to hide behind." Ron looked at Harry like his light bulb went off. "That's the reason for all those Sneakoscopes turning black!"

Hermione snapped her fingers. "He's a magical creature isn't he? So is he a werewolf like Lupin?"

"No… I'm not gonna betray Selim by telling you what he is," said Harry firmly.

"Come off it," said Ron, "you're able to speak to snakes! Selim's got nothing darker than that!"

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry bitterly.

"Calm down, Ron. If Harry doesn't want to say then I'm all for him," said Hermione. She picked up a stack of books and breezed out of the room.

"She's upset you know," said Ron, caching Harry's eye. "Not at you… at us… the whole group – at herself. She's been beating herself up about it all night."

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat. "I've should have at least told you a little about Selim before everyone got all high and mighty."

Ron chuckled softly. "At the time… it all clicked – you know? You never mentioned him until after the trial, so we thought Selim was hiding something. Hermione thought it involved a Polyjuice Potion."

Harry scowled, remembering their fake teacher last year. "It'd suck if we got fooled twice, uh?"

"Exactly. So we both agreed to keep an eye on him. But he stayed with his other first year friend all the time. Hermione then told me to invite him to our meetings, making him join so she could see if he drinks out of anything weird. Hermione said it's all about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer."

Harry smiled a little. Good on her for using her Muggle heritage to make up a plan. "I understand – I do – but you guys attacked Selim. It'll take time to get his trust back, if you haven't lost it already."

Harry stood up and walked out, leaving Ron to digest what he said. Breakfast in the Great Hall started in ten minutes and he had homework to rush through before classes.

xXx

He was finding it impossible to not just skip lunch and grab the Marauder's Map to find is little buddy. He wanted to hurry and get this whole mess resolved quickly before the teachers took notice to Pride's absence in class. However, his gut was telling him to go to the Great Hall regardless of his own feelings.

When Harry sat down by his two best friends he looked around at his fellow D.A. members. Dumbledore's Army, that's the name his group decided on. Personally, Harry thought it to be a poor choice. He already felt like a soldier, this name of his organization merely nailed the fact in.

The other members looked happy. They were, after all, resisting under the very nose of their unfair professor, doing the very thing that she and the Ministry most feared. So of course they all had bubbly expressions as they ate.

It made Harry feel even worse. Did they not think about what they just did? Turning a wand on a first year, a member of the D.A. no less. Colin Creevey and Neville gave him a guilt ridden look, while Parvati Patil had a bright smile on her face.

' _It's like second year all over again. Nobody but my closest friends and Colin believe my claims. Instead of thinking I'm the Heir, they easily pointed this year's mayhem at Pride. Stupid, simple minded, jerks.'_

Suddenly, the loud talking in the Great Hall stopped. Dumbledore had risen up to his podium. His hands holding firmly to its sides. If Harry had been closer to the teachers' table he might've seen the furious shaking of the Headmaster's hands before he grabbed onto his podium.

"It has come to my attention that a Hogwarts' student under the age of seventeen has attempted an Apparition. While it is impossible to do so out of school grounds, our wards do not prevent doing so inside the castle. It is imperative that we bring Selim Bradley to the hospital for treatment. All prefects are to report their findings to Madam Pomphrey; be it Mr. Bradley… or his scattered body parts." The old Headmaster returned to his seat, looking at Umbridge as if waiting.

Sure enough, the women in pink rose from her seat. " _Hem, hem._ Thank you for those heart felt words, Headmaster. I would just like to add a smidge more." She clapped her hands almost too happily. Filch came through the doorway, holding a scroll, and gave it to her. "Education Degree Number Twenty Five. As High Inquisitor, I am allowed to expel any student who practices magic not sanctioned by the Ministry's law of age required magic. Which, applies to Apparition. Hence forth, should Mr. Bradley be found not Splinched to death; he will be expelled."

"Well," said Hermione as Umbridge sat back down, "… things just got a whole lot worse."

"No need to point out the obvious, Hermione," said Harry. For once, is it to much to ask for some good luck?

When afternoon classes got done with, Harry ran over to his room and grabbed the Marauder's Map. His main worry was finding his homunculus before the other prefects do, like Draco. The slimy snake might be already on the move to locate Pride. It'd be horrible if the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs also found him first. The three houses had prefects who would rather follow the school rules then break them to save a student.

Pride will be expelled, no questions asked. So Harry vigorously searched each floor the map showed. His only saving grace might be Ron and Hermione finding the first year before the others. They could protect him in the Room of Requirement. When, and it better be when, Pride gets found, he might be royally ticked off. Harry was expecting as much. The D.A. did start jumping to conclusions. So he warned his two best friends to apologize as quickly as they could.

His heart leaped up in his chest. He spotted the black dot of Pride on the seventh floor. Pride was barely moving, and shockingly, still in the Room of Requirement.

Putting on his Invisibility Cloak, Harry rushed to Pride's dot. He spotted the house prefects nowhere near the seventh floor thankfully. When he got to the corridor he wished to see Pride. The room became visible, and Harry walked in thinking that Pride would be there, arms folded, and a serious scowl adoring his face.

For some reason he saw nothing. Harry checked his map again. It showed Pride in the room. Harry walked until Pride's dot fell beneath his on the map. Harry looked around and saw nothing. He wondered if Pride Apparated into the floor beneath his feat. But that sounded ridiculous.

Then, just like during the D.A. meeting, the room offered him help. A section of the floor rose up in a pillar, getting smaller and smaller, until it was very thin and at about Harry's eye level. A relieved sound escaped his lips at seeing the small figure on the pole. Of course, Pride must've shrunk down to get away unseen.

"Jeeze, look at you Pride, you really got tiny didn't ya?" Harry was having some trouble even seeing the tiny boy's face. As Harry leaned in closer he realized he couldn't hear Pride's voice. "Can you get to normal size?"

Harry tried to hear, but his hearing fell short. Though he did see the tiny shaking of Pride's head.

"No… hm... then what can I do?"

Pride bit his hand, dripping blood. Harry, not knowing where this was leading, did the same. He copied his homunculus' actions like a game a charades. Harry ended up placing his bleeding hand next to the smaller boy. To his surprise, Pride reached out his own injured hand, dipping it into Harry's wound. Then Harry felt the familiar pull of energies in his body. When the sensation stopped Pride had grown to his usual shrunken size.

"I am very close to tearing that Smith kid a new one. He started that paranoia and attacked me. I'll kill him," he said in a low tone.

Harry took his homunculus in his hand and cradled him to his stomach. "Don't be thick," he said firmly. "It's been a stressful few weeks with Umbridge. They needed a scapegoat… they always need a scapegoat."

"I'm not letting this go, Harry. You may be forgiving enough to those humans but I'm not."

"Good," said Harry hardheartedly. "Nobody should be trusting after getting betrayed like that. Don't trust them, I wouldn't, but also don't seek revenge for a human mistake. Let them try to make it up to you, but I say screw the others who don't attempt to apologize."

Pride gave him a smile. "That's my Harry, always looking for the positive."

"And you're my Pride, always thinking above human stupidity."

"It's not hard," said Pride with a cocky smirk.

"Then you can use that brain of yours to get us out of another jam." Harry raised Pride to eye level and looked at him seriously. The boy's silence told him to continue. "Umbridge issued another decree. I think Fred and George went to Dumbledore last light. They mistook your disappearing act as an unlicensed Disapparition. Somehow Umbridge got a whiff of it and said that if anyone found you alive you'd be expelled for breaking Ministry Law."

"Well, that's not good," muttered Pride, who was now pacing on Harry's palm.

"Hermione said the same," said Harry with a sigh. "And Dumbledore might think you're a dark creature now. Though, he let Lupin attend school so that might not be a problem. It's Umbridge who's got a problem with non-humans. She already made a few jabs at Hagrid even though he hasn't returned to the school yet. She's despicable."

"So… I'm screwed as long as she's calling all the shots? Fantastic," said Pride, still pacing. "Dumbledore knowing about me being a non-human is irrelevant. We can claim I'm a vampire if he asks. He's shown indifference before, like you said. Though my connection to you is a good reason for the Ministry to get me away from Dumbledore's protection and ask me some questions. If I'm caught…"

Harry refused to hear anymore. He used his finger to shush Pride's rapid talking.

"Not gonna happen. Now I see two options for you." Harry held up on finger. "Stay in the Room of Requirement for the rest of the school year." Harry help up a second finger. "Or come to classes with me. You have to be tiny of course, but at least you can learn and not be cooped up here. And on D.A. meetings practice with the rest of us. That way your friend Nathen will know you're alive."

"I guess the second option. I'll try to let the other members make up for their mistakes, but if any lowly human tries to attack me again I'll hex them."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll make them regret it," said Harry, knowing full well how scary Pride could get.

xXx

October extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain and November arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that bit at exposed hands and faces. The skies and the ceiling of the Great Hall turned a pale, pearly gray, the mountains around Hogwarts became snowcapped, and the temperature in the castle dropped so far that many students wore their thick protective dragon skin gloves in the corridors between lessons.

Though one student in particular did so for another reason. Smith wore his to hide the bruises of nearly broken fingers. He refused to go to the hospital wring, and only the other members of the D.A. knew why. He got his deserved punishment for trying to attack a student for the second time. Only those in the little club knew who: Selim Bradley. The boy everyone, including the teachers, thought was dead; his corpse somewhere in the stone walls of Hogwarts.

To the members of the D.A. he was alive and well, staying in the Room of Requirement, and hiding from the other students. It was a long, around two hours, chat that set the members straight. Pride fed them a lie, saying he was a half vampire who was tied to the Potter Family. It worked, after Pride nearly broke Smith's fingers for pointing his wand at him again, and nobody questioned the first year in fear.

There was still some trust issues of course. Pride refused to practice with anyone but Harry or Nathen. Who was overjoyed at seeing his best friend safe. Hermione helped Pride study after classes. Though she didn't need to do much, seeing as how Harry and been secretly taking his homunculus with him to classes. Hermione even commended the first year on knowing fifth year material.

The best part of it all, was that Dumbledore had yet to talk to Harry about Pride. It seemed the Headmaster waved the deal off completely. Which got Pride thinking, because the old wizard seemed to not care for a missing student. It was unclear if the old man had his suspicions of him being a spy. He would look at Pride's disappearance as one less threat to the school, hopefully.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold. When Harry awoke he spotted Ron sitting bolt upright, his arms around his knees, staring fixedly into space.

"You all right?" said Harry.

Ron nodded but did not speak. Harry was reminded forcibly of the time that Ron and accidentally put a slug-vomiting charm on himself. He looked just as pale and sweaty as he done then, not to mention as reluctant to open his mouth.

"You just need some breakfast," Harry said bracingly. "C'mon."

He quickly escorted Ron to the Great Hall for lunch. During their walk to the ground floor Harry stayed behind his red haired friend. He made sure to discreetly adjust himself. Last night Pride had been rather rambunctious. Which resulted in Harry trying to hide his blush at having to peel the shrunken homunculus out of his pants. With his robe covering his hands he tossed his servant in his book bag.

Harry had to game to be focusing on. Pride would just be a distraction. He'd rather feel the rush of victory than pleasure for the next few hours.

xXx

"Good luck, Ron," said Hermione, standing on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek. "And you, Harry. I'll make sure to inform Selim when we win."

Harry quickly raised his hands. "No need, Hermine. He's got my Invisibility Cloak and the map. He's going to watch too," Harry lied smoothly. She didn't need to go and find Pride not in the Room of Requirement.

"Hey, Harry! Where's the half blood sucker?" Asked Nathen as the Hufflepuff walked up to them.

"Harry says Selim will be using his Invisibility Cloak to watch the match," said Hermione.

"Oh, sweet. I wish I had one. Ah, I guess Selim will be making sure nobody is around to accidently bump into him. Darn, I wanted us to hang out." Nathen pouted then followed the crowd out of the Great Hall.

Harry pulled Ron along with him to the changing rooms. They had a game to win, and Harry hoped Ron's skill as a goalie shined through today. If not, Harry prayed that he found the Snitch before Malfoy.

xXx

 _Weasley cannot save a thing,_

 _He cannot black a single ring,_

 _That's why Slytherins all sing;_

 _Weasley is our King._

 _Weasley was born in a bin,_

 _He always lets the Quaffle in,_

 _Weasley will make sure we win,_

 _Weasley is our King._

Harry deeply wanted to throttle the snakes. Their stupid song was messing with Ron. Harry gritted his teeth when he flew by the score board. Twenty-nil, not to bad, Gryffindor could come back from this, but with Ron shakenly flying in front of the goals they might be in trouble. A few points and they could win this yet…

Ron let in four more goals as another chorus of singing started. Harry griped his broom tighter as he zoomed pass other players in pursuit of something shiny. It turned out to be some gold colored bracelets on the Slytherin fan's wrists.

They shined in the sunlight. Harry had easily fallen for another one of their tricks. He ducked a Bludger as he circled around the field. He tried to ignore the singing and horn sounds of goals going to the snakes. This was bad, he knew Ron lost three more goals. In a panic Harry continued to soar around the stadium, searching fruitlessly…

 _WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,_

 _HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,_

 _WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN-_

By Merlin their voices were loud. If Harry hade any pride in his body he'd feel really good right now. He had seen it at last: The tiny fluttering Golden Snitch was hovering feet from the ground at the Slytherin end of the pitch.

He dived…

In a matter of seconds, Malfoy was streaking out of the sky on Harry's left, a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom…

Harry cursed his luck when the Snitch scooted off to a far corner of the field. Its change in direction suited Malfoy as he got the narrower turn. Harry pulled his Firebolt around, he and Malfoy were now neck and neck…

Feet from the ground, Harry lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching toward the Snitch… to his right, Malfoy's arm extended too, reaching, groping…

Malfoy's hand nearly clamped down on the Snitch; only for him to withdraw it. Harry's fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball – Malfoy's palm spewed blood onto the back of Harry's hand suddenly – Harry pulled his broom upward, holding the struggling ball in his hand and his house screamed their approval…

They were saved, it did not matter that Ron had let in those goals, nobody would remember as long as Gryffindor had won… At that moment of victory, Harry wondered what caused Malfoy to flinch, and how he got the boy's blood on his hand –

Suddenly Harry fell off his broom as a Bludger slammed into his chest. There was a loud thud, but at least he fell a short distance.

"You all right, Harry?" Said Angelina as she pulled him to his feet.

"Yeah, I've fell from higher before," said Harry, thinking back to third year. Then before he knew it she hugged him. "We won, Harry, we won!"

Harry heard a snort from behind him and turned around, still holding the Snitch tightly in his hand: Draco Malfoy had landed close by; whit-faced with fury, he was balling his bleeding hand into a fist, letting drops of blood slide down his fingers as he sneered.

"Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper… but then was _born in a bin_ … Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

Harry did not answer; he kept staring at the Malfoy's blood dripping to the floor. Nobody he knew had enough finesse to fire a cutting curse and hit Malfoy's palm. That cut had to come from Pride's shadow power. His range in controlling shadows only extended so far when shrunken, so Harry took a guess that Pride had turned back to normal and helped him win the match from afar. Sneaky little cheater, but Harry lost his will to care when Pride was made. Screw his own feelings of vanity in winning a fare fight, he'd much rather win to show up Malfoy.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy classed, as Katie and Alicia hugged Harry. Who was wishing more for his slim, eleven year old then two hot girls, but he give in. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly – we wanted to sing about his mother, see – gah!"

"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgusted look. Though she did have a beginning of a smile at seeing the pureblood hopping on one foot.

"– we couldn't fit in _useless loser_ either – for his father, you know –"

Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking around at Malfoy. Then everyone present sported a dumbfound look. Malfoy was rolling on the ground, cupping both his ankles. Blood was dripping into his shoes.

They all looked at each other not knowing who muttered the curse. Harry looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack. He should probably fix this before she accuses them of attacking Malfoy.

"You might want to think about your words next time. You see, my magic has been pretty… unpredictable, as of late. I can't seem to control it when a prude peacock starts to gobble like a turkey."

"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, nursing his three cuts, looking at Harry with a glint in his eyes, "you did this on purpose. Wait tell I tell Madam Hooch you attacked me, Potter! I bet I can get you in a whole lot of trouble. Just like _your_ Muggle mother got herself in. I wonder, if she'd be congratulating you on cheating. Well, who knows, you might have gotten that from her. You know I heard she got around a lot, ridding 'brooms'."

Harry lost all self-composer. He could stand being thrown insults. But he drew the line at Malfoy speaking about his mom. He moved to run and cause Malfoy as much pain as possible, but his vision was blocked by the pureblood's own shadow. It, much to the amazement of everyone watching, rose up from the ground as little black hands.

"Harry… are you…"

"No, Fred, this isn't me… but I've got a good idea who."

By the time Madam Hooch had dealt with Crabbe, the group adored a look of horror on their faces. Malfoy had an arm snapped in half. The shadowy hands that did it already returned to Malfoy's shadow. Everything was back to normal except for the pain ridden Slytherin.

"What in blazes is going on here?!" screamed Madam Hooch, as she ran to the downed Malfoy.

"Malfoy dive bombed into the ground. I expect he was so furious he lost control of his broom," said Katie. She gave Harry and very confused look. Harry mouthed 'not me' and she seemed to buy it.

"Luck is on your side today, Mr. Malfoy. The last time a seeker flew himself into the dirt he broke all of his limbs. Then again, that was ten years ago, with slower brooms. No matter, I'll get you to the infirmary."

She walked off with an injured Malfoy. Harry's Quidditch team demanded answers when they got to the changing rooms. Harry decided on telling the truth: Selim was watching from afar and overheard the commotion while under the stands. A bit of accidental magic, which was not uncommon for eleven year olds, and Malfoy got what he deserved. Any non D.A. members were then forced to keep the secret of Pride being alive; under threat of the twins' pranks of course.

Luckily, his homunculus's actions happened so fast nobody would have noticed. Plus, Madam Hooch believed their story, so Harry left for the common room with a satisfied smile.

His lies were well placed, Malfoy was in pain, and he got away dentition free. Life was looking up. And then Hermione came in with better news later that night. Hagrid was back on school grounds.

xXx

Harry awoke to a full sized Pride cuddling him. After getting free from the tangle of limbs, he got dressed and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map from his truck; he was so quick that by the time Pride woke up Harry looked ready to climb Mt. Everest.

"Well, it's cold out there!" he said defensively, as Pride pulled off the blanket.

"You're going to see Hagrid, right?"

"Yeah, he's been gone for so long. I'm so excited."

"Go have fun. I'm staying here."

"Really?" Harry said, surprised that Pride didn't want to come along. Normally his servant never left his side.

"Promised Nathen I'll practice a few spells with him. Don't you worry about me, Master, I can get around fine by myself."

Harry accepted it as is and joined Ron and Hermione downstairs. The three crept through the portrait hole and covered themselves hastily in the cloak. He set out in a quick march, the other two jostling and bumping along behind him, and they crunched excitedly through the thickening snow until at last they reached the wooden front door; when Harry raised his fest and knocked three times, a dog started barking frantically inside.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry called through the keyhole.

"Shoulda known!" said a gruff voice.

They beamed at one another under the cloak; they could tell that Hagrid's voice was pleased. "Bin home three seconds… Out the way, Fang… _Out the way_ , yeh dozy dog…"

The bolt was drawn back, the door creaked open, and Hagrid's head appeared in the gap.

Hermione screamed.

Harry covered her mouth and squeezed past Hagrid into the house. He let her go but gave her an arched eyebrow. Ron was the one who normally shrieks like a girl. Harry deemed it wise to not voice his thoughts.

"I just – oh, _Hagrid!_ "

"It's nuthin', it's nuthin'!" said Hagrid hastily, shutting the door behind them and hurrying to close all the curtains, but Hermione continued to gaze up at him in horror.

Hagrid's hair was a matted with congealed blood, and his left eye had been reduced to a putty slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made Harry suspect broken ribs. It was obvious that he had only just hot home; a think black traveling cloak lay over the back of the chair of a chair and a haversack large enough to carry several small children leaned against the wall inside the door. Hagrid himself, twice the size of a normal man and three times as broad, was no limping over to the fire and placing a copper kettle over it.

"What happened to you?" Harry demanded, while Fang danced around them all, trying to lick their faces.

Hagrid refused to tell them. He got out a large steak to cover his bad eye and offered them tea. The three each took a cup, but Ron and Hermione persisted. Then Hermione made a guess about giants. Considering Hagrid, a half giant, Harry also figured that wasn't too far as a stretch to think that the big man was visiting family. But looking at the bruises… maybe Hagrid wasn't welcomed with open arms.

"Come on, Hagrid, tell us what you've been up to!" said Ron. "Tell us about being attacked by the giants and Harry can tell you about having a half vampire adopted brother –"

Hagrid chocked in his mug and dropped his steak at the same time; a large quantity of spit, tea, and dragon blood was sprayed over the table as Hagrid coughed and spluttered and the steak slid, with a soft splat, onto the floor.

"Whadda yeh mean, vampire brother?" yelled Hagrid.

"Nobody but us knows… you're the first adult we've told," said Hermine, her gaze focusing on Harry.

"I – uh – found out over the summer that the Potter family had a good relationship with a vampire. My adopted brother, Selim Bradley, is half vampire and half human. He was left without parents and taken to an orphanage. From there the Dursleys housed him for the money, and it was during that time that he found out about Hogwarts."

"Yeh're not serious? He alread'a knew about magic?"

"Yep, because he's a half vampire. Anyway, I decided to adopt him as my brother. He had no other place to go, so I got my Muggle family to agree," Harry lied through his teeth. This cock and bull story was better than going out and saying that Selim was like a Dementor that houses a bunch of souls in his body. Now that would be worse than a blood sucker.

Harry didn't want to imagine the chaos of Pride being found out. His immortality would draw Voldemort like a moth to a flame.

"Thas' a lot ta takin in," said Hagrid, looking at Harry with wide eyes. Harry looked right back, an expression of unrelenting determination on his face.

"Oh, all righ'," Hagrid said in a resigned voice. He took a fortifying gulp of tea and then said, "Well, we set of righ' after term ended –"

"Madame Maxime went with you, then?" Hermione interjected.

"Yeah, tha' right," said Hagrid, and a softened expression appeared on the few inches of face not obscured by beard or green dragon blood. "Yeah, it was jus' the pair of us. An' I'll tell yeh this, she's not afraid of roughin' it, Olympe. Yeh know, she's a in, well-dressed woman, an knowin' where we was goin' I wondered 'ow she'd feel abou' clamberin' over boulders an' sleepin' in caves an' tha', bu' she never complained once."

"You knew where you were going?" Harry asked. "You knew where the giants were?"

"Well, Dumbledore knew, an' he told us," said Hagrid.

"Are they hidden?" asked Ron. "Is it a secret, where they are?"

"Not really," said Hagrid, shaking his shaggy head. "It's jus' that mos' wizards aren' bothered where they are, s' long as it's a good long way away. But where they are's very difficult ter get ter, fer humans anyway, so we needed Dumbledore's instructions. Took us abou' a month ter get there –"

"A _month?_ " said Ron, as though he had never heard of a journey lasting such a ridiculously long time. "But – why couldn't you just grab a Portkey or something?"

Harry knew the reason. "The Ministry has been watching everyone with ties to Dumbledore closely."

"Got er in one, Harry. We had ter lay off the magic once we got near 'em. Partly 'cause they don' like wizards an' we didn' want ter put their backs up too soon, and partly 'cause Dumbledore had warned us You-Know-Who was bound ter be after the giants an' all. Said it was odds on he'd sent a messenger off ter them already. Told us ter be very careful of drawin' attention ter ourselves as we got nearer in case there was Death Eaters around."

Hagrid paused or a long draft of tea.

"Go on!" said Harry urgently.

"Found 'em in the mountains by Dijon," said Hagrid baldly. "Went over a ridge one nigh' an' there they was, spread ou' underneath us. Little fires burnin' below an' huge shadows… It was like watchin' bits o' the mountain movin'."

"How bid are they?" asked Ron in a hushed voice.

"'Bout twenty feet," said Hagrid casually. "Some o' the bigger ones mighta bin twenty-five… but I swear I never saw one bigger tha' the Gurg."

"Gurg?" asked Harry.

"Oh, the Gurg – means the chief."

"How could you tell which ones was the Gurg?" asked Ron.

Hagrid grunted in amusement.

"No problem," he said. "Out o' I say abou' eighty giants, he was the biggest. Handsome too, a real looker, rare for giants. He sat there on his marble throne, all lazy, lordin' over other giants. Name o' Greed. I'd put him at fifty-four, fifty-five feet, an' the weight of a couple dozen bull elephants. Skin like a peach, very human like, which is odd for a giant."

"And you just walked up to him?" said Hermione breathlessly.

"Well… _down_ ter him, where he was sittin' in the valley. There was in this dip between four pretty high mountains, see, beside a mountain lake, an' Greed was sitting on his marble throne. Olympe an' I went down the mountainside –"

"But didn't they try and kill you when they saw you?" asked Ron incredulously.

"It was def'nitely on some of their minds," said Hagrid, shrugging, "but we did what Dumbledore told us ter do, which was ter hold our gift high an' keep our eyes on the Gurg an' ignore the others. So that's what we did. An' the rest of 'em went quiet an' watched us pass an' we got right rup ter Greed's toes an' we bowed an' put our present down in front o' him."

"What do you give a giant?" asked Ron eagerly. "Food?"

"Nah, he can get food all righ' fer himself," said Hagrid. "We took him magic. Giants like magic, jus' don't like us usin' it against 'em. Anyway, that firs' day we gave him a branch o' Gubraithian fire."

Hermione said "wow" softly, but Harry and Ron both frowned in puzzlement.

"A branch of –?"

"Everlasting fire," said Hermione irritably, "you ought to know that by now, Professor Flitwick's mentioned it at least twice in class!"

"Well anyway," said Hagrid quickly, intervening before Ron could answer back, "Dumbledore'd bewitched this branch to burn evermore, which isn' somthin' any wizard could do, an' so I lies it down in the snow by Greed's feet and says, 'A gift to the Gurg of the giants from Albus Dumbledore, who sends his respectful greetings.'"

"And what did Karkus say?" asked Harry eagerly.

"He asked us a question: 'Does a boy by the name of Potter attend Dumbledore's school?' Spoke in perfect English, too."

"You're kidding! I'm famous there, too?!"

"I guess so, Harry. And the name o' Dumbledore is known, too," said Hagrid, turning his dragon steak over to press the cooler side to his swollen eye. "Suspired me, I'll tell yeh. Dumbledore wanted us ter take it very slow. Let 'em see we kept our promises. _We'll come back tomorrow with anther present,_ an' then we do come back with another present – gives a good impression, see? But Greed demanded we discuss the details with him then. An' I never before saw a giant so smart. Normally, overload 'em with information an' they'll kill yeh jus' to simplify things; but Greed wanted us to stay an' talk."

"And?"

"We got lucky. He'd heard o' Dumbledore, heard he'd argued against the killin' of the last giants in Briatin. An' when we told him you, Harry, was a student under Dumbledore he got real pleased. We got him to agree, but on one condition he demanded."

"What condition?" said Ron quickly.

"Well, I didn't want ter speak for yeh, Harry, but we had no way of contacting Dumbledore," said Hagrid nervously. "Time was important, so I agreed to his terms. Greed wanted you ter having a meeting with him over the summer."

"Okay… find by me… but how'd you get those injures?"

Hagrid sighed deeply.

"Giants are not meant ter live together, not in big groups like that. They can' help themselves, they half kill each other every few weeks. The men fight each other an' the women fight each other, the remnants of the old tribes fight each other, an' that's without squabbles over food an' the best fires an' sleepin' spots. You'd think, 'cause their dieing, but… that night a fight broke out. When the sun came up the snow was scarlet an' his head was lyin' at the bottom o' the lake."

"Whose head?" gasped Hermione.

"Greed's," said Hagrid heavily. "But there was no new Grug, Greed still sat on his throne."

"I thought his head got ripped off," said Harry incredulously. In the pit of his stomach he felt butterflies. What Hagrid said felt ominous.

"It grew back," said Hagrid, his tone skeptical even if he saw it himself. "Then he killed the attacking giant, Golgomath, in cold blood. Made his hand pitch black and ran it through Golgomath's chest."

"Sounds brutal," said Ron, stunned.

"That's not all. Nex' thing I knew, Greed had the Death Eater who'd been talkin' to the giants following Golgomath. Greed, bein' the biggest giant there, held the screaming Death Eater by his ankle with his fingers. Well, I tried to ask him to let us interrogate him, an' said we'd take care of him. But then Greed popped him like a grape an' said: 'I dislike idiots, no go and bring Harry Potter to me come summer.' Not wantin' to stay around with him in a bad mood, we legged it out of the camp."

"So… so there are giants coming?" said Ron, looking excited yet worried.

"Hopefull, good chance," said Hagrid, smiling at his successes as he turned over his steak again and applied the cooler side to his face, "but we got to get Harry to meet with Greed first. I 'spect he'll be very helpful, you always make a good impression, Harry."

"Er… thanks, Hagrid."

Snow was filling up the window now. Harry became aware that the keens of his robes were soaked trough; Fang was drooling with his head in Harry's lap.

"Hagrid?" said Hermione quietly after a while.

"Mmm?"

"Did you… was there any sign of… did you hear anything about your… your… mother while you were there?"

Hagrid's unobscured eye rested upon her, and Hermione looked rather scared.

"I'm sorry… I… forget it –"

"Dead… but after she did this to me," Hagrid grunted. "One favor I owe Greed when we were leaving. Don't worry about it. Wasn' a great mother, it's why I first came to Hogwarts, to get away, be human like my father."

They were silent again. Hermione glanced nervously at Harry and Ron, plainly wanting them to speak.

Harry felt more connected to Hagrid. They share the same hurt of neglect. Harry was about to tell him he understands his pain when they heard a knock on the door. They stared at the window beside the doorway. The shadow of somebody small and squat rippled across the thin curtain.

" _It's her_!" Ron whispered.


End file.
